All Roads Lead to Hell
by AnikaAnn
Summary: It was just a matter of time before their happy bubble would burst. Things were going too well. The Earth is shaking under their feet and they only have a limited amount of options. In the end, it doesn't matter. Whatever they do, whichever path they choose, they are damned. All roads lead to hell. Matt, Vera and the rest are thrown in the middle of The Defenders mess.Damned verse
1. The perks of dating Daredevil

_So... Vera and Matt are taking on The Defenders. Lots of things are canon, so you can count on what happened to the other characters (Jess, Luke, Danny..) - you might be a little lost if you haven't seen the Defenders - but there are some changes in the timeline and in the plot as well, obviously. For example, it's happening in December, because I said so._

 _I mean, Matt has never stopped being Daredevil, he's on speaking terms with Foggy and Karen (who are together and are not treating DD like an addict), Matt has some history with Danny and Vera knows too many people. Also, the season 2 DD mess didn't happen (Elektra, whom Matt last saw when in law school, and Frank, obviously)._

 _The story starts with a little non-defenders action (various types of action), hope you won't mind. Gotta ease you in. I just couldn't help myself… my default setting and all that :D_

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 **1\. The perks of dating Daredevil**

Walking home alone at night was honestly one of the most stupid things one could do in Hell's Kitchen, especially if they were a woman, Vera was well-aware. She didn't consider herself particularly stupid; but she also wasn't the kind of person who couldn't fight off some back alley mugger if necessary. That didn't mean she was looking for any sort of trouble, she really wasn't _that_ stupid; however, there were things she didn't get to choose and when her shift ended at half past eight, allowing her to leave after nine p.m., she just had to _walk home alone at night._

Which was, of course, one of the most stupid ideas a Hell's Kitchen resident could get.

The moment someone grabbed her from behind and tried to tug her to an alleyway, her brain came up with a half dozen of ways of fighting the attacker off. She broke out of the man's grip in a second, scoring a nice elbow to his face, only to be caught by another one and—yeah, and having a gun aimed at her head by a third guy. Well, _shit._

"You scream, you're dead. Money. Jewellery. Nice and slowly."

"Shit."

Vera held her hands up. The gunman was too far for her to disarm him. The man she had elbowed, who had a knife on her back under her coat now, was close enough, she would handle him, maybe even with the possibly unarmed one on her side. But the combination of the three of them... She was no daredevil. With neither small nor capital D.

"Oh, such a lovely young lady and such a foul mouth?" the gunman wondered mockingly. It irritated her. His smugness and her fucking bad luck, because seriously? It was the time of month to collect her trouble magnet duty or what?

"Yes. And she also has a piece of advice for you," she mumbled, unsure where that came from. Was she suicidal? A _gun_ and a _knife._ Three guys. Not a good opportunity for her to have a big mouth. Then again, maybe…

"Does she now?"

"Yes. You don't want to do this." …maybe if she talked long enough…

"Really? And what do we want, tell me."

He beckoned to the guy with the knife. She felt the blade pressing against her back, almost breaking her skin. She gulped when the third man approached her, raising his hand. She tasted bile in her mouth when he touched her chin and she turned her face away.

"I know what I would want other than the money," he murmured slyly, giving a tiny chuckle.

"Don't you fucking dare-"

"Rude. Maybe we should stuff something to the dirty mouth of yours. What do you think, Dylan?" the gunman challenged and Vera shivered against her will.

The knifeman – Dylan, apparently – moved one of his hands to her ass, squeezing. Jesus, _shit._ That was the last thing she needed.

"You think she would blow me? I bet she would. She has such pretty cock-sucking lips…" he purred to her ear and Vera felt she was actually going to puke any second now. She wouldn't stand a chance against _three_ men, let alone armed.

"Let's start with the money, hm? We can have fun later." His gun beckoned in her direction.

Her mind raced. Was the gun just for show? If it was, she had a chance. On the other hand, if it was a real deal and he was a good shooter, she might end up bleeding to death. Which wasn't her idea of a perfect evening.

Why was she in New York again? For sure, this wouldn't happen in Prague. It definitely wouldn't happen in Trutnov.

The metal on her ring finger hidden under her gloves burned instead of an answer.

Prague and Trutnov were cool cities, but didn't have one thing. One person. Who might come even if she didn't scream, but talked long enough. Also, it was totally on him that she didn't have her brass knuckles with her, so talking was pretty much everything she could do; not that brass knuckles would help her against a gun, but _whatever_.

"You really don't want to do any of this," she repeated, hint of fake confidence creeping into her voice. "In fact, I think you should go to the police and confess all your crimes. I know a lawyer. Defense attorney. He might take your case."

He probably wouldn't take their case; Matt didn't have a habit of defending scumbags.

The third guy ripped away her purse. Oh. She had one less thing to restrain her. Good.

"So she has fancy friends too. Lawyers…. Friends with benefits?"

Really? That was their concern? And what on Earth gave them the impression of her— that she would… _blow them_ , or that she had several friends with benefits? Well, it wasn't like they were completely _wrong_ , there was number of things Vera was doing with her favourite lawyer as if they were friends with benefits indeed, but hey, she was engaged to him, she would say she was entitled.

 _Talk, Veronika._

"Well, I guess he wouldn't take it then since you're being-" _pigs_ "-vulgar. But you still should go to the police."

"And why would we do that, doll?" the gunman smiled sweetly.

Vera closed her eyes and prayed Matt was on his way at least. "Because the police would be gentle. Or at least less brutal. Daredevil? Not so much."

"Ohhhh, right. The weirdo in spandex. I don't see him around here now. Do you?" the gunman cackled in response.

Vera managed a shaky laugh too. "You won't _see_ him coming, you idiot. He'll have you lying unconscious on the ground before you get even a glimpse of red."

The guy on her side shifted uncomfortably as he was coming through her purse, finding her wallet. Scared?

"Jesus, Marc, don't be a pussy!"

"Oh, he's the only one who's smart enough. Maybe he _will_ be blissfully unconscious by the time you'll be whining, cowered on the ground, begging for the Devil to stop. He can get quite violent. He doesn't like bullies. Especially the ones with guns." _Aiming at me._

The gunman took few steps closer, aiming at her head, the gun making an unmistakable click.

 _Doprdele._

That wasn't a smart move, it really wasn't. But maybe now when the gun was closer… _screw the knife,_ she could survive a cut, just get rid of the freaking gun.

"How would you know, princess? You suck his dick too?" he sneered, sly, confident smile. And wow, he would make her feel like a whore. Which was frankly the last thing she cared about now.

Vera _could_ see him peripherally, a glimpse of red, just a shadow moving on the fire escape. She knew it wasn't a victory yet, but the wave of relief washing over her was overwhelming.

"What if I told you I do?"

The gun was knocked out of his hand with a billy club, going off. Dylan winced, the knife cutting through her skin before losing contact with her. Vera hissed at the sudden pain, spinning around and punching the man to his face.

She felt a grasp on her hair, but it disappeared quickly with muffled crack and scream. Vera didn't waste time with thinking about what exactly that was – as the knifeman's hands shot up to his face, she knocked the weapon out of his hand and dirtily kneed his crotch. That was the only attention she would be paying to that part of his body, unlike he had implied.

"Jesus, bitch!" he cursed, getting ready to attack – she simply took his hand, twisting it behind his back. She hated that move because she once had seen the way out of it and it was next to impossible. But it worked well with her being the superior one.

He whined; a very miserable sound. Vera's ears were overwhelmed by miserable sounds – Matt was working the other two thugs and he was not gentle indeed. She could tell he was pissed off. She hadn't lied before; he didn't like bullies. Especially the ones with guns. The fact they had targeted her though, that had probably sealed their death sentence. Figuratively speaking.

She tripped the knifeman and he fell to the ground.

Vera quickly eyed Matt – he wasn't done. He was throwing punches to the gunman's face, right, left, right, right, brutal and quick and she winced at the picture of his violent side. Not as much as she did when she felt sharp pain above her left ankle.

" _Shit."_

That bastard had found his knife and cut her again, even when lying face down and barely moving.

Vera had no time to think or feel guilty – she stamped on his wrist with a sickening crack and a clank of the knife on the pavement. Dylan let out a deafening scream, but was cut off by a billy club hitting his face, knocking him out.

Vera's head snapped to Matt, who was no longer paying attention to the – now unconscious – gunman. Instead, he was on her side in a fraction of second.

"I'm sorry," he growled, not really sounding like he was sorry (what for?), reaching for her purse. "Here, call 911."

His lips were a thin line as he squatted to her ankle, taking his gloves off, rolling up her jeans, examining the wound carefully. Adrenalin was still pumping through her body, but the stark contrast of the gentle touch on her and the previous violence and tone of his voice was… dizzying, making her heart flutter.

She dialled.

"You'll need stitches for this. Can I see your back?"

He was fighting to keep his voice from sounding angry, she could tell. He was trying to get it together, be considerate of her. Tender. _Oh, Matt._ She just nodded and he moved to her back.

" _ **What's your emergency?"**_ sounded the voice on the other end of line and Vera told them about three men who had tried to mug her, all of them injured, unconscious. She asked an ambulance for them. When the woman asked her if she was hurt too, she simply said no and the woman hung up.

Matt's fingers froze.

"Why didn't you tell her you were hurt?" he asked, traces of anger soaking through.

Vera turned to him, surprised. "I thought you could stich it up…?"

He wore a mask, but she could tell his eyebrows shot up so high it probably reached his hairline.

"Uhm… couldn't you?"

"I _could_ , but there is no single reason for me to do it when you can go to the hospital, where they can give you painkillers and take care of you _professionally._ Not to mention you'll be giving a statement before coming home."

"You never go to hospitals," she protested, tugging her coat down when his warm fingers left the wound, only cold air remaining. "And I trust you."

She kinda didn't know how to disprove his other argument.

"You— this isn't about trust!" he hissed back heatedly.

One of the men – Marc, was it? – stirred. Matt paced to him and sent him back to the land of non-dreams with one well-aimed blow, gloves on or not. When he approached her again, his expression (his _mouth_ , because that was the only visible part, she could only imagine the rest) was troubled.

"It's about you being in pain when you don't have to," he added softly.

Vera gulped. Yeah, she knew it would hurt like a bitch, okay? It already _hurt_. But— duh. She couldn't explain it.

"I heard having a personal experience helps with being empathic," she joked.

He set his jaw tight. _"Jesus,_ Vera. This isn't a joke!"

"No, it's not – it's legit."

She heard sirens in the distance and winced.

His fingers touched her jaw lightly. "Let them take care of, okay? Please? I… I don't want you to associate pain with me more than you already do," he pleaded, barely audible.

Her eyes went wide. What? Why would she-

 _Oh, Matt, you loveable idiot._ "I don't-"

He silenced her with a chaste tender kiss, his hands on her face and in her hair, light as a touch of butterfly wings, delicate as if she could break under his touch, yet... needy. And there was nothing romantic about kissing with three unconscious men around them, dark alley and her bleeding – except it kinda was. Vera found herself deeply regretting the loss of his lips when he withdrew.

"See you at home, love."

His breath tickled her cheek, he placed a light kiss there too and he was gone before she could snap from her dazed state. It was the blood loss making her reactions slow, she was sure. She looked around, red and blue illuminating the scary scene she was standing in the middle of.

The doors of the police cars flew open, three guns aiming at her, so she quickly raised her hands up.

Seriously?!

"Hey, put the guns down! She's the victim," sounded too familiar voice and Vera let her arms fall down with a tiny smile. "For real, Machackova?"

"You know me. Troubles just keep following me around."

Sergeant Brett Mahoney gave her an unimpressed look. Her smile widened.

Vera let the paramedics take her to the hospital. One of them looked at her like she was crazy, reminding her she had said she wasn't hurt. Vera had no explanation.

And Matt had been right of course – she needed stitches. Claire did them, while Brett sat by her bedside, asking questions. Claire was a miracle worker, but the cop was still faster, disappearing before Claire was done.

"Can't say this is a pleasant change," Claire murmured, finishing her work. "Sewing up Machackova instead of Murdock? Not exactly what I was hoping to do tonight."

"Well, soon you'll be stitching up Murdock or Murdock _,_ so there's that," Vera offered with a grin and shrugged. She was probably high on the meds.

"Because that's what makes it better," Claire snorted, patting her shoulder. "You're good to go."

"Thanks, Claire."

"Well, this is my job…"

"Good point," Vera noted as she hopped off the bed. She was surprised by the world swaying a little. She quickly searched for support again.

"Whoa, take it easy, madwoman. No rapid movements – pain meds in your system. Plus, you are _stitched up_. Try not to pop any of those, would you?"

"Sorry. I guess I wouldn't want a blind man to redo them, huh?"

Taking a cab was expensive as hell, but it seemed inevitable. Her ankle was somewhere between stiff and numb and her head was spinning just a little when she moved it too fast, so the cab it was.

Matt waited for her on the second floor – avoiding Mrs. Ginger Vera had met at the first one – ready to support her weight as expected. She was grateful, because the stairs were a bitch. She hadn't quite counted on Matt to actually take her to his arms, bridal style, and _carry her_. She probably should have.

Vera didn't protest. If she fidgeted, she would make it harder and he was stubborn enough not to let go of her if she would, so she just sighed and thanked him quietly. He hummed instead of an answer, his expression unreadable as they reached their apartment.

 _Their apartment._ It never got less incredible. Vera couldn't help smiling, actually chuckling when they entered it.

"You know you should carry me over the doorstep _after_ the wedding, right?" she noted lightly and she saw an inconspicuous crack of a smile on his face.

"Couch or bed?" he breathed, tone guarded as he kicked the doors close. Vera gulped.

"Shower?"

"You shouldn't be showering with fresh stitches, not if you can't keep it dry."

She huffed. "Okay. The couch it is. I'm not sleeping in silk sheets like this."

Matt obediently seated her on the couch. She pulled him down with her, snuggling to his side. He was breathing heavily – she might not be overweight by distance, but she wasn't hundred pounds either.

"Are you hurt?" she blurted out, straightening again, watching his expression grow surprised.

"No. _I'm_ not hurt, Vera," he noted dryly. She rolled her eyes. Okay, point taken.

"Just because I'm hurt, it doesn't mean you aren't or that I can't take care of you," she explained in low voice, licking her lips before she hesitantly brought her hand to his jaw, temple, fingers running through his hair. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch slightly.

"I— I know. And… I'm sorry."

She kissed his forehead. "I get it. You worry. I worry too. I would expect nothing less." She heard him swallow. "Thank you for the save, Mr. Daredevil."

His body went rigid. "I meant sorry for... for-"

Vera withdrew, frowning in confusion. "For what?"

"I should have come faster. Be more careful with the approach-"

"Matt, I've got two small cuts, both my fault." Mostly. ' _Not his fault'_ to be more precise. "You knocked the gun out of his hand – I could have been shot dead if it wasn't for you," she reminded him not exactly gently. But she had learnt that sometimes shock therapy was the best way of dealing with his emotions. Apart from punching. As expected, he winced. "Honestly, I thought you would break their bones one by one or something for aiming a gun at my head."

"I _wanted to_ ," he grumbled, deep dangerous sound. "You were bleeding. And then you were bleeding _more,_ because I couldn't keep my shit together. You hurting, still fighting a man, that should have been the priority, but he— _Jesus_ , I wanted to-"

 _Wow,_ this was a whole new level of bullshit. "Are you beating yourself over beating them too much or not enough?" she asked, bewildered, letting the sarcasm in.

"Both. If I wasn't… losing my time with the gunman, you wouldn't have been cut _twice_."

"Wow. _Really, Matt?!"_ Matt jumped at the incredulous comment, his eyebrows up. "Matt, you— I give up. I'm okay. You're okay. Let's leave it there."

Matt frowned, his lips creating sad reversed flat U.

' _You hurting, that should have been the priority.'_

Vera hadn't had time to think about his inner struggle when fighting earlier. He probably _had_ wanted to break them, but he had worried for her. It wasn't so hard to understand. Matt was a complicated guy, she knew, okay, but despite the popular opinion, he was just a human too. This part wasn't exactly a rocket science; humans loved, humans worried, humans got angry…

She brought her other hand to his face too, stroking his cheek with her thumb. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did, melting. Focusing more; leaving the past, returning to present. When she met his lips, he answered her kiss softly, his hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.

The thought hit her when he nibbled at her lower lip gingerly, making her pulse jump for a different reason than usual. He detected the change, uncharacteristic. He stopped, tracing her suddenly burning cheeks; Vera wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger.

"Vera, sweetheart?"

She gulped and shook her head. _Don't think about it._ The intrusive voice was crystal clear in her ears though. _Jesus_ , she should have kicked the knifeman to his groin _multiple times_. She licked her suddenly dry lips and it made it even worse, because she wondered about the shape, tempted to run her tongue over it again to check.

Kick. His. Balls. Again. And again.

"Do I have cock-sucking lips?" she blurted out, half curious, half outraged. A second later, she was horrified she had actually let the words leave her mouth. Matt choked on his own spit, coughing violently, his hands falling. She hid her face in her palms. "Oh god, forget it, please, forget it."

"Jesus _Christ,_ Vera," he rasped, "warn me before saying something like this."

She peeked at him between her fingers. His expression was hard, possibly at the memory – she had no doubt he heard the man's comment –, but there was also a pure shock.

"Uhm, so that's a no, I guess…" she mumbled to her palms, surprised by the sting of disappointment.

Disappointment _. Are you insane, Veronika? Some lowlife scumbag tells you something like this and now you're taking it as a compliment, regretting it's not true?_ _You need a psych eval._

Matt regained control over his facial expressions, tilting his head, trying to figure her out. _Good luck with that._ "I… feel like I should plead the fifth."

Vera frowned, putting her hands away. He looked… sheepish? His ears were red, but then again his whole face was red, because he had almost choked when she had asked. She didn't understand.

"Why?"

Because he thought any possible answer was right? Well, he wasn't wrong, probably. She didn't know what she wanted to hear anymore.

Matt licked his lips, lowering his gaze. Her heart jumped. Was that a yes? She felt her mouth falling agape, while his own uselessly opened and closed several times.

"A— a little. It's beautiful. … Actually more than a little. But that's not a bad thing!" he hurried as he heard her heartbeat increasing with each word. Her mind got caught in a loop.

"You… you think?" she asked hesitantly, slightly leaning in, the idea ridiculously appealing. When _that_ happened?

"Y— yeah," he stuttered and that was definitely blush on his cheeks now, ears burning.

He raised his chin in combative gesture, trying to be the chill Matt he usually was, at least in public. He would try to turn it against her. But nope. This confession got hilarious very quickly. She really hoped he hadn't gotten hurt.

"Hm… that's… good to know, I guess."

She gently rubbed his thigh, pure innocence, leaving her hand there.

"Good."

Vera raised one corner of her mouth, letting her hand wander up. She lowered her eyes, unable to look at his face, no matter how much mental bravado she imagined she had.

"So it's… for you, it feels good?"

"What does?" Matt blurted out, shifting inconspicuously under her touch. Or was it her words?

"My mouth. On your—… _you?"_

His fingers twitched deliberately. She couldn't make herself check his expression. Were his eyes wide?When he didn't seem to be about to react, her gaze flickered to his face anyway. Yes, they were wide. And he gave a barely noticeable nod. The other corner of her lips rose too.

"So it's… it's not just the heat, softness and wetness or the… way I lick and move in general?" she continued, cocking her head to side, watching him gulp. Okay, she would never think she would be able to say something like this, but this was fun. Even without super-senses, she could feel the air changing. "It's more? Because you're so sensitive? You can feel every breath, but you can feel the structure and _shape_ too?"

He caught her hand in a firm grip when she ran her fingers over the hem of his sweatpants near the forming bulge. She giggled like a teenage girl, she couldn't help it. His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Stop it, please," he pleaded hoarsely, his grab on her not loosening in the slightest. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a solid no either.

"Why?" she asked innocently, surprised by the amount of strength he was willing to use to prevent her from touching him. Her hand couldn't move an inch. And she kinda wanted to move it.

"Because you're hurt right now and-"

"And you want."

Vera didn't wait for his permission. She slid down from the couch before he could stop her. To her utter relief, kneeling didn't hurt; not more than usually. His fingers dug into her wrist.

"Vera-"

"Hm?"

He didn't try to stop her when her free hand appeared on his hip, reaching for his sweatpants again. She looked up as he licked his own lips, expression somewhat torn. Then he reluctantly lost his grip and she used the opportunity to touch him lightly over the fabric.

Whatever he was about to say, it got lost as he pressed his lips together, inconspicuously leaning to the touch. It felt good to know she wasn't the only one who was too easy sometimes.

"Sometimes I wonder who from the two of us is the Devil," he breathed out shakily as she slowly stripped his pants to his knees.

She fought a chuckle bravely and won. "I think we both have our moments."

Vera drew small circles on his thighs until he somewhat melted to the couch, giving her a better access. She kissed him over the silk boxers, enjoying the way his muscles tensed as she did so. A fraction of second later, she felt his fingers in her hair, making her look up.

His gaze was incredibly focused, eyes narrowed, yet dazed. He slowly traced her lower lip with his thumb, his own lips parting. When he did it for the fourth time, drawing it down just a little, fascinated, she kissed his finger and sucked teasingly. His face was priceless.

"Succubus," he choked out and she sucked again, then leaving the finger so she could get to more important matters. She had a reputation to live up after all.

She kissed his lower abdomen while getting rid of the last piece of clothing in her way. She wavered, just breathing in and out through her mouth few times. And god, the way his fingers clasped her hair in silent plea…

"I'll take that as a compliment," she whispered and got to work.

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When I figure out what is wrong with me to write chapters like this, I'll let you know…

Glad you stumbled over this fic and I promise it will get less dirty and more 'plotty'.


	2. 11 million dollars

**2.** **$ 11 million**

Vera was watching him with her jaw carefully controlled so it wouldn't fall to her lap.

She had a habit of going to the court with him – well, not _with_ him, more like going along to watch him – if the time allowed that. It always left her awed and honestly a little horrified (and _maybe_ a little aroused), because he was _good_. Really fucking scarily good.

She knew lawyers had to be tough and everything, not showing weakness and stuff, which made the fact she had seen his opponent close to tears once or twice even more terrifying. She thought it was something in his face, maybe the frown, reminding her of a disappointed parent, when he looked at the other lawyer as if he wanted them to rethink their morally questionable life choices.

Nevertheless, Vera _almost_ thought she might get used to seeing Matt at court one day. It probably wouldn't happen, because _oh god_ , he was cut-throat today.

In the beginning, the other lawyer had looked unfazed; gradually, she was losing her shit. Matt was brilliant when it came to wining the favour of the jury. He gleamed with righteous anger, while only showing it occasionally, proving he was perfectly controlled and distanced enough to make people believe that the situation wasn't hurting him as his own person, but him as a human being. As if the attitude of the company was an offense to _humanity_ , as if it was a duty of any decent person to reprobate the people responsible. He was also not afraid of using the victim's name – Aaron James, a young man on a wheelchair, where the actions of the company had put him – to dismiss the feeling of anonymity; not just another victim, but _this very young man¸_ who had a name and his whole life ahead, suffered through their hands.

And Matt was doing all of this while using fancy lawyer terms and successfully avoiding hackneyed phrases. He was _perfect_ ; a little scary, his performance chilling Vera's spine, but pretty much perfect.

The jury apparently agreed with Vera, because of course Matt won the suit. And he won eleven million dollars for the family. _Eleven million dollars._ And the best part? It was a fucking _pro bono case_. Matt won eleven million dollars and he didn't get a penny for taking the case in the first place, for doing the digging, for the hours and hours spent on it. He might get something later, _maybe_ , but still. Like what the hell?!

Vera left the courtroom dazed and with a wide smile on her face hidden behind her loosely hanging longish hair. If she was being honest, she was sure it was more of a smirk than a smile; because _screw you, justice was served_ (at least as much as possible) and _hell yeah, that's my fiancée_. Vera really was proud of him and it was moments like this when she simply couldn't understand _why_ , why on Earth would this man choose to spend the rest of his life with her of all people. She sure wasn't complaining though.

Vera stood by the wall, observing Matt as the mother gave him a quick hug and as he spoke to the boy on the wheelchair. He went to talk with several reporters after, the flashes of cameras leaving him calm, which seemed like a natural thing for a blind man, but Vera was sure he could hear them.

A touch on her forearm disturbed her staring and made her snap her head in the other direction. She met with a pair of smiling blue eyes.

"You still got it bad," Karen teased her and Vera felt a blush creeping up to her cheeks.

"Can you blame me? He _slayed_ them," Vera defended her fascination with him and Karen hummed in agreement, both women sparing another glance in his direction.

"I never said I blamed you."

"You're here to get a statement?" Vera wondered and Karen nodded.

"Yep. And maybe for a late lunch? I don't know. Did you guys have plans? I don't want to intrude— it's just… it feels like ages since we talked."

"Well, he _has been_ busy."

Very busy. Matt was a fucking workaholic. Sure, he always found time for Vera, but he was just taking too many cases and with his night job… no wonder Karen felt like she hadn't talk to him for eternity. She possibly hadn't.

"Neglecting you already? In that that case…"

Vera frowned. Had she sounded wry or whiny when saying Matt had been busy? Had she sounded like she had felt neglected? Dammit.

Well, she should have had a lunch with Matt, because beside their moment when and after he had… uhm, saved her life or something, the last few days had felt like their apartment had been buried under tons of paper, all notes and paperwork for this case, and Matt had disappeared together with the tidiness. Vera was actually impressed he had managed to get all he needed in one bag he had thrown over his shoulder in the morning.

"That's not— it's not like that. Sometimes I think he made the Earth rotate slower just for him, it's like his day has 26 hours instead of 24 or something," Vera admitted, realizing it was the truth. She smiled at the former N&M secretary. "You can have him."

"That's very generous of you, Ms. Machackova."

"And very treasonable. I can't believe you're giving me up so easily," Matt's voice sounded from behind Vera's back, his hand easily sliding into hers in an inconspicuous movement.

Vera turned to him, her heart fluttering in her chest. She knew he wasn't much for PDA (apart from their time in Czechia, but she suspected that had been because he didn't have to deal with the consequences) and in this case, just like in many others, she was actually grateful. Vera was pretty sure that if he had kissed her – even on a cheek – someone would snap a photo, because Matt was the hero of today. And every other day, but most people didn't know that.

The point was, Matt slipped his hand into hers and it was everything; she appreciated the small gestures, barely visible things really, but she was always pleased when he managed to steal a moment to show her his affection. Touching was important for them, always had been. It didn't matter the others might not see it; that was sort of the point.

"I'm sorry, are you complaining about me _not_ being a nag? You are an odd person, Mr. Murdock" Vera stated and Matt's eyebrows shot up. "But you're my odd person. Just not for today's lunch."

She squeezed his hand, resisting the urge to kiss the shit out of him when his lips spread in a tired but a brilliant smile. She bit her lip, forcing herself to let go of him.

"Are you sure? I promised you one."

Vera wasn't kidding anyone; she felt a tiny sting of disappointment, but Matt wasn't just hers. _Smile, Veronika. It's for Karen._

"You realize I mostly hoped for that lunch because you were living on food _served in boxes_ or lunch at three p.m. which I had to force you to eat, right? Because you were refusing to leave the apartment unless it was absolutely necessary and _eating_ wasn't on the list of these necessary things… _unlike your nocturnal activities."_

Matt opened his mouth, but Vera beat him to speaking, dropping her voice even lower.

" _And I'm grateful for that. I would probably get shot otherwise, thank you again. You're my hero."_

"I'll make it up to you," he offered gently, his body leaning to her space slightly before he stopped himself as if he remembered they were still at the courthouse. Vera's heart jumped at that movement, right before it melted.

She wasn't angry with him, what she had said was just a banter really, teasing, she thought he knew that, but the well-known shadow of guilt fell over his face for a second and she realized he took it seriously. _Dammit, Matt._ She brushed her fingers against his once more.

"You know there's nothing you should be making up for, Matt. What you're doing is important. I haven't even managed to say congratulation yet. Congratulation, Matt. You were— you were incredible. I know the fabulous win made it clear, but- yeah. Incredible. Amazing. Uhm…. See you later?"

Karen cleared her throat and Vera tore her gaze away from Matt's small smile. "I'm sorry, did I miss the wedding? Because you are _so married_ ," she joked and Vera lowered her eyes, unsure if it was a compliment or an insult.

Matt ignored the note for a good measure, kissing Vera's knuckles and then her ring; somehow, no one seemed to notice him doing that.

"Later. Thank you. I love you."

Vera assumed she had changed into a puddle of a lovesick Jell-O. It felt like she had.

"Still hard to believe that sometimes," she whispered, gaining a head tilt from him. "I love you too."

"Aaand, it's gone. There's no way you two are married. You're too love-struck for that," Karen noted and Vera almost jumped at her voice.

She quickly took her leave after that, waving awkwardly at them when taking a turn.

"See you guys later!"

Vera felt almost sorry for having a lesson that day; she knew Matt hadn't plan any meetings for the rest of the day and they really hadn't spent much time together in the past few days, so it would be a perfect opportunity to make up for the lost time. Yeah, not so much. Karen apparently wanted to catch up more than she had admitted and Vera left to Fogwell's before Matt could have arrived.

She soon forgot about it, focusing on the lesson, smiling due to the rush of endorphins into her bloodstream. Claire had done a great job with the stitches and Matt had removed them two days ago, so she didn't have to hold back and she could have her fun. She loved it, she enjoyed the atmosphere, the way her 'students' seemed exhausted but often were smiling like madmen.

"Water break, guys! You deserve it! _And so do I…"_ she murmured after a short cardio sequence, grabbing her bottle of water.

Vera eyed all of the participants, checking on them automatically; it had happened before that a girl had felt dizzy and needed to sit down for a bit. It had happened only once, because people apparently had some sense of self-preservation unlike someone Vera knew, but it _had,_ so she paid attention to the signs.

It didn't escape her that two women (Mia and Catherine… Kate? Cathy?) were giggling at something and Vera wondered if it could be at something she had done or something wrong with her face or whatever. Mia walked to Dinah, whispering something to her ear and the other girl giggled as well. Vera narrowed her eyes, thinking harder. Dinah's gaze flickered to the door of the gym and Vera's followed.

She almost had a heart attack; there he was, leaning onto the wall next the door, arms crossed on his chest, a light smile on his lips. What the hell was he doing here?

Vera raised her index finger in the direction of the giggling women, clearing her throat. "Uhm… just give me a sec to deal with… our guest."

"We'll give you thirty," Dinah teased and Vera rolled her eyes, jogging to Matt.

"Hi," she breathed, astonished. It couldn't be anything too bad if he was smiling, right? "What are you doing here?"

He bounced off the wall, his smile widening.

"I've never seen Vera, the lecturer, in action. I'd like to. I was hoping you wouldn't mind," he offered, shrugging casually.

For some reason, it didn't seem as casual; there was more to it. He wanted to know another side of her, making up for his absence (and his mental absence) in the past few days. It made her uneasy and at the same time, she found it incredibly touching.

"Oh. Okay, I guess?"

"Thirty seconds! Heart rate is dropping, a total waste not to burn calories!"

" _Speak for yourself, mine's still racing…"_ Vera muttered under her breath, earning a laugh from Matt. She turned to Dinah and the others, forcing a wide smile. "Alright! Would you guys mind if we had an audience?"

Matt caught her elbow gently as the vague 'no', 'nope', 'a little' and 'nah, that's okay' sounded from the students.

"I won't see if you're doing it wrong, don't worry," Matt joked lightly and Vera tilted her head back, silently whining as few people laughed hesitantly.

"Thirty seconds, Murdock. You know them for thirty seconds and you're already throwing blind jokes in?"

"What can I say; I need to be charming in the company of so many beautiful women."

Vera turned to him, scandalized. Only then she realized it was also very clever of him, pretending he didn't know she had a man among the participants, because he couldn't see him.

"I'm pretty sure you just offended Jim. Which is not a wise move, all of these people here, including him, could kick your ass, you know?"

Matt raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as Vera seated him on the edge of the ring.

"Sorry, Jim, I'm sure you're a handsome man."

"Okay. So, I gotta warn you – he might not see you, _but_ he can totally hear you if you go too slowly. So please, do your best as always, prove our guest that I haven't completely failed as a lecturer," she pleaded, walking to the stereo to turn up the music again.

"I'm sure they are in the best hands."

Dinah and three other women made a tiny 'aww', causing Vera to hide her embarrassment and stage fright behind a smile. She put on a remix of Call Me Maybe; just because she could.

It was a little weird in the beginning; Vera was trying to imagine that Matt wasn't here and in time, she actually found herself relaxing and falling back to normal, enjoying herself again.

"Freestyle or work-"

"FREESTYLE!" they yelled unison before she could even finish the sentence. Vera grinned, noticing that Matt's eyebrows shot up.

"You know we will have to work-out eventually, right?" she murmured, but switched the songs, smiling. This was her favourite part too; while people seem to enjoy themselves most of the time, this was something that really powered them up. Today was no different.

Stretching followed, a high-five with each of the participants and goodbyes.

"We never got to know if we sounded good," Dinah noted in Matt's direction.

"You sounded pretty great. You must have a great teacher," Matt responded smoothly and the woman shot Vera a look that spoke a thousand words (these being 'that is so sweet' repeated 250 times).

"Right. I'm pretty sure it's just the students being so talented…" Vera offered.

Matt tilted his head, smiling, knowing Vera felt abashed. "Might be both."

Vera was really glad when the students left, discreetly accompanying the last one to the door, waiting few seconds before locking up and leaning onto it with a relieved sigh. Matt was grinning innocently at her.

"How are you making women giggle like teenagers? Is that one of your superpowers?"

Matt ignored her question, beckoning her to come back to him. Vera hesitantly did, letting him to pull her into a hug; if he minded she was sweaty, he didn't complain.

"You _are_ great with them, Vera. They adore you. It almost made me jealous."

"Almost, huh?"

"Well, _someone_ agreed to marry _me_. So instead, I was proud," he explained gently and Vera slightly retreated, examining his face. He did look proud. She smiled, pecking his lips.

"Thank you."

He caught her lips again, lingering, deepening the kiss, before he chuckled. "Does this mean I can call you? Maybe?"

Vera smacked his bicep, but laughed as well. "You know, I'm glad Jim was here tonight. Usually they bargain for a different song for freestyle when it's girls only."

"I like the idea, they seem to really enjoy that part. What song?"

Vera mentally counted to three and licked her lips before speaking. "Single Ladies."

Matt laughed wholeheartedly, throwing his head back, his body shaking against hers as they still stood in a half hug. He let go of her waist, framing her face instead, crashing their mouths together in an enthusiastic kiss that left her breathless.

When he withdrew, his eyes were twinkling.

"Good thing that I put a ring on it, isn't it?"

"The best."

It took them a while to stop chuckling, but when they got there, Matt made her a generous offer she couldn't decline.

"You want to train a little? You're not too tired?" he asked, examining her in his freaky way. Hell, even if she was too tired, she would agree. She sceptically eyed the suit he was wearing and he patted his bag. "I stopped at home."

"Are you wearing a change of clothes in the bag where you usually wear legal documents?"

"Can't be too careful. What would people think if a blind guy was coming to a gym after hours to work out with you? Can't raise a suspicion."

"I totally wanted to put on some 'hero' song, but then decided it would be too much…" Vera admitted, letting him change. When he lost his top, she couldn't help it and started humming while wrapping her hands again.

" _Your stare was holding,  
ripped jeans, skin was showin',  
hot night, wind was blowin',  
where you think you're going baby…"_

Matt snorted and put on a t-shirt, shaking his head. "I signed up for a lifetime of dorkiness."

Vera raised an eyebrow. "This coming from you… plus, you love it."

He drew her in for another kiss, using her plait as leverage. "I do."


	3. Tremors

**3\. Tremors**

"So… how are you, guys?" Terri wondered, resting against the counter, a cup of cappuccino in her hand.

It was a typical picture of MDDC around eleven; a few customers in, slow pace, time to chill and talk. With some people, it might be boring – but working with Terri had its perks.

"How are we? What do you mean?"

"You and Matt. Duh. Who else?" Terri rolled her eyes, but her goofy smile gave her away. She was totally happy for them. "Have you already had a moment of hating your flatmate? Or you know, your flatmate hating the fact that you're his flatmate?"

Vera raised an eyebrow, sipping her tea. Was that a serious question? Vera would share if they had such a moment. Probably.

But all things considered, it actually wasn't such an invalid question. They had been living in one apartment for over two weeks and Vera hadn't comment on it yet.

Vera was losing the tiptoeing attitude very slowly; with Matt working mostly from home, he was spending a lot of time in and Vera had a feeling that every sound she made naturally had to disturb him, especially if they were in the same room. Matt hadn't complained about it yet, so Vera kept checking on him, usually finding him invested in what he was doing as if he didn't mind her presence. Didn't mind, but not _ignored_ her. Sometimes when she passed him, his hand would brush hers, he would pulled her in for a kiss or a hug or asked her if she was okay on a day she was indeed feeling tired or sore from training.

She would wait for him some nights, some nights she would just ask if he was okay when lying down beside her. Goodnight kisses, good morning kisses or lazy mornings, good day kisses, talk or comfortable silence. They were fine.

"We're fine," Vera summed it up, earning an unimpressed look from her best friend.

"Really, Machackova? 'We're fine'? That all you got? Details!"

Vera laughed. "What do you want me to say, Ter? You want to hear about the distribution of toiletries in the bathroom? Who's doing the shopping? How did we not kill each other with all the legal papers in our living room and his…" Vera gestured around her head vaguely. "…senses all over the place? We're okay. Somehow."

"Uh-huh. Now we're getting somewhere."

"It's… I was really worried, you know? About me annoying him with my… breathing and stuff. But he seems… he seems okay. I don't think he would say anything, but if I'm being honest, I'm pretty sure I know him at this point, I know when he's annoyed or irritated. And it's not how I would describe him."

"He's too smitten, isn't he?" Terri said, more of a statement than a question.

Vera shrugged, smiling. "Well, he's not the only one."

"Oh jeez, you two so deserve each other."

"Ha! You're the one to talk. Victor is still not moving in?" Vera pried, gladly taking focus off her.

Terri sighed. Vera knew Terri's apartment wasn't exactly big, but Victor spent lots of nights – days? – at her place, because apparently, Vic's brother Patrick had broken up with his girlfriend after a year and decided to go down the road of random hook-ups and Vic was slowly losing patience when meeting girls and guys in their underwear wandering through their flat. The thing was, being forced to move in with his girlfriend by something like this was not the best way to do it.

"Don't even go there. I'm not sure if I want him to move in under the circumstances. Let's go back to you. It's over three weeks from your engagement; when is the wedding? Just so I can clean my schedule…"

Vera gaped. Yeah, about that. "Uhm…"

"Vera. Am I _not_ invited to your wedding? Because I'm gonna be really wounded. You are not running off to Vegas, are you?"

Vera chuckled, internally panicking. "We… haven't talked about it yet."

"Excuse me?"

"We didn't have time for it and… we have _time."_

Terri threw her hands in the air. "Okay. But you have some idea, right? Spring? Summer? Autumn? Wint— oh. You should do it before September. You know, be practical."

Vera tried her best to keep her poker face. The wedding thing was a little complicated.

Firstly, Vera had never thought she would be getting married in a church and frankly, she didn't even know if she could, since she wasn't christened. She was confident Matt definitely would want a wedding in a church. Then, of course, there was another issue with the location; Czechia versus the US. She couldn't find herself to check if they could get married in Czechia if she wanted to obtain American citizenship, because she was afraid what she would learn. And she knew her family (and frankly, her friends too) would never forgive her if they weren't at her wedding and arranging their transport to US would be… _complicated_ at best; it would be easier to get Terri and the others to Czechia. Another good question was who the 'others' were.

Oh no, Vera did _not_ mind they hadn't talked about the wedding yet, not at all. Maybe escaping to Vegas was the easiest solution. Except that would make _everyone_ angry, Matt would never agree to that and honestly, Vera didn't want that either.

"Like I said. Haven't talked about it yet. And it has to be a mutual decision."

Terri dramatically placed her cup on the counter. "Right. You better start obtaining your visa already, because there is no way you're married by September."

Vera just opened and closed her mouth soundlessly several times, watching her friend serving a customer. She finished her tea, dumbstruck. Yeah, okay. Whatever.

The pocket of her apron vibrated with a text. Speak of the Devil.

 _ **So, Foggy is offended no one invited him along for the yesterday lunch. Do you want to join us? He hasn't specified. We can arrange the lunch late enough for you to come.**_

Vera chuckled, immediately typing a reply.

 _ **Nah, go have some bros time. You deserve it, mister 11 Million Dollars Lawsuit. Love you.**_

Her smile turned goofy when another text arrived.

 _ **As you wish. Love you too.**_

"Machackova, stop sexting during your work hours," Terri hummed as she was passing by her with the order.

Vera rolled her eyes, shoving her phone back. The goofy smile stayed.

Meh, they would be fine. Every problem had _some_ kind of a solution. A compromise. They weren't too bad at those.

Apart from many other things Vera had brought to Matt's – _their_ – apartment, she had brought one extra box with Christmas sweets. The moment they had made arrangements with Nina, who had generously let her move out at 10th November already, which had been the very same moment she had paid her last rent, Vera had known she had needed to handle one more thing before moving in with Matt; baking. Vera had been pretty happy about the whole moving-in thing, but she was a realist. She had been afraid the smell, no matter how pleasant she found it, would be intrusive to his senses.

So she had moved in with all types of pastry already baked, only waiting to be decorated and finished. Matt hadn't questioned it.

Vera decided it was about time she started with the decorating, nestling at the kitchen table with gingerbreads and icing, Christmas songs and carols lowly playing from her laptop. Which was how Matt found her; she had been humming and too focused on her work to hear him arrive.

She only noticed him when the icing got too stiff in her hand and she set it on the table, cracking her sore neck. Her heart skipped a beat when she found him leaning onto the wall dividing the hall and the kitchen, content smile on his lips.

She turned off the music.

"Sorry. How long you've been standing here?"

Matt tossed some files on the coffee table. His smile widened as he made his way to her. "For a while. You didn't have to turn it off."

"How was your lunch with Foggy?" she asked, ignoring his note and the rush of blood to her cheeks when she realized he must have heard her humming; totally off key, probably.

"Good. It was nice. He's counting on us to come for Christmas again. He'll be happy to hear that you're already working on the candy," Matt stated with a grin, pecking her lips.

"I'm trying. I'll clean it up in a minute, it just needs a little while to… you know."

She gestured over the table, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say. He tilted his head in a silent wonder. Then he took her hand, pulling her up, leading her to the couch. Her heart fluttered nervously as he sat down next to her, a serious but soft expression.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

Vera blinked in surprise, not following. "Bake candy?"

He chuckled. "No, that's obligatory. Foggy said you shouldn't even show up without it. He's gonna be disappointed there are no vanilla-almond rolls."

"Oh, they are, don't worry."

"Where?!" Matt demanded, his face a pure shock for a second.

It was true Vera had brought a box of sweets with her, so it was easy to assume she had brought all of it. Except she hadn't.

"Nope, I'm not telling you. I keep it a secret, because _someone_ is a 'candy-eating monster'." She had left them at Nina's place, asking her to keep them safe.

"Vera."

"No. You would eat them all and I would have to bake another batch."

Something in his face shifted, returning to his previous expression. "And why would that mind so much? You seem to enjoy it."

 _Because the whole apartment would smell like it._ Vera opened her mouth just to close it again.

"I'm gonna make an assumption, alright?" he offered lowly, cupping her cheek. Uh-huh. "You don't want to do it here."

"That's not-"

"Because you keep thinking about this place as _my_ apartment," he continued and Vera protested weakly again.

"That's not true. I literally call it 'ours' in my head. And out loud too."

Matt smiled. "That's a good start."

Vera was not quite following. Though…. Okay, maybe she had some issues with it, maybe it was the real reason why she was so careful about every sound; this was Matt's space and she didn't want to invade it. Or was it Matt she didn't want to bother and the space didn't matter? She wasn't sure anymore.

"I don't… I'm not sure I understand."

"I thought it would pass, but you did it again just few moments ago. I walked in and you turned the music off, assured me you would clean up as soon as possible. You don't want to bake another batch – you baked ridiculously early, just so you could do it in your old apartment – because you're afraid I would mind. Your heart speeds up every time you make a sound you consider too loud."

Oh her heart _was_ gradually speeding up with his words right now, okay. How the hell did he notice all this? How did he know?

She was speechless. His amiable eyes were not helping. His thumb traced her lips.

"Am I wrong?"

Vera gulped, unable to speak, unable to bear his intense gaze. _Goddammit_. "I— I'm… uhm-"

She was glad he leaned in, meeting her lips, because she was not sure how to continue that statement. The kiss was incredibly sweet – and it had nothing to do with the fact she might have sampled the icing few times. She kept her eyes closed when he withdrew an inch.

"I love you. I appreciate you are considerate of me, but you can't do this. How long until you get fed up with controlling yourself like that? I don't want that. I want you to feel good here, relaxed. I want you to stay."

She snapped her eyes open. The last sentence was barely a whisper, the vulnerable tone he sometimes pulled out; it meant he was being self-conscious, afraid. He was afraid she would leave.

Vera drew in a sharp breath, her feelings changing from touched and calmed to incredulous.

"Oh, for god's sake."

She framed his face with her palms, kissing him fiercely and he immediately caught up, responding the same way, his hand soon moving to the back of her neck to make sure she followed him when he slowly lied on the couch, dragging her body on top of his.

She supported herself on her elbows next to his head, retreating to catch her breath.

"I _want to_ stay. I don't want you to kick me out for being ignorant."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "Let's find a reasonable middle between trying too hard and being ignorant, shall we?"

His lips brushed hers, teasing before sucking her upper lip. He freed her hair from the messy bun, burying his fingers in it adoringly, his other hand wandering down to her waist.

"We happened to find an area where it works pretty well, we should inspire there," he breathed to her mouth, pulling her closer, wedging his thigh between hers.

"Shameless," she noted, letting her fingers wander too, careful not to rest all of her weight on him.

She was okay with shameless. More than just okay. She would have been more than okay with it yesterday as well, but she had been exhausted and he must have sensed it.

Matt just hummed, the sound vibrating against her mouth, and the hand on her waist slipped under her tee as if he wanted to confirm her exclaim about him having no shame.

Vera was aware it was a little crazy; jumping each other's bones that often probably wasn't normal, but she didn't care at all. They were everything but a normal couple.

She was okay with that too.

Vera had no idea how was Matt able to breathe when she was practically sprawled on top of him, but she had given up on solving that mystery a long time ago; mainly because he never seemed to mind. And he was a nicely warm pillow if a little hard on some places… like his hip bones, obviously.

"Are you going to tell me where the vanilla rolls are, now?" he pried, his fingers playing with her hair (growing to his delight). Vera gasped.

"No. Just because you're— and- no."

His chest shook with laugher. "That was very descriptive."

"I can't be descriptive. It would blow your ego."

"Hm… okay then. Let me guess – you baked them at your old apartment, so the easiest place to leave them at is at Nina's."

"Nope," she lied shamelessly, but her heartbeat probably betrayed her. His lips spread in a victorious smile. "Do not break into Nina's apartment just to get them! I'll rather bring them here…"

"Good plan. But she knows me, Vera, I wouldn't break in, I would simply knock on the door." He pecked her temple. "Did it ever occur to you that I would actually be glad if you baked here?"

"….no?"

His other arm, wrapped around her waist, squeezed her tighter.

"I can smell it anyway, faintly. And it's nice. I need you to understand one thing. Listening carefully?" he checked, not elaborating until she nodded. "Good. Yes, you're kinda intruding my space."

Vera frowned, her whole body tensing. His hand drew a comforting circle on her bare back.

"But when you look around this apartment and… I don't know, smell it and everything. What do you see? What is the apartment like?"

Vera blinked, looking up from his face, obediently checking on the apartment. She had no idea what he meant.

"It's… big?" she offered unsurely, making his lips twitch before he fell into seriousness.

"Okay. And?"

"Designers? Spacious? Airy? In a good mood lighting from the billboard?"

They hadn't hit the lights and the billboard was indeed offering an interesting game of colours in the space, drowning their bodies in paint, drawing patterns on their skin.

" _Hollow_ , Vera _._ It's hollow, quiet, lonely and dark," he listed, emphasis on each word. Vera didn't call him out of the fact that his apartment would always be dark for him. She gulped, her heartbeat speeding up in anticipation. "It's mine and that's nice and all, but guess what. I like when you're invading it. You're lighting it up. Little noises or louder, smells, warm, your presence – this place is full of it. It's not hollow anymore. You're brining life in here. You change the apartment into a home."

Vera observed his sincere eyes, his inconspicuous smile, and wondered in just how many ways he could express love. There was a feeling in her chest, light and weighting a tone, making her own breathing significantly difficult.

"Just for you to know, I was going to say you're really freaking amazing at _making me speechless_ and unable to think, with both your words and… actions. So, uhm, Yeah. That. Okay. Ježišmarja." _I'm not gonna cry_.

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh, really?"

"See! See, that smug smile, that's the thing I wanted to avoid."

Matt pecked her lips. "You do the exact opposite, you know. You _make me want to talk_. And by talking, I mean even talking about feelings. Foggy was horrified and amazed at the same time. He thought I was emotionally stunned before I met you."

Vera grinned. That was actually pretty amazing. She eyed the coffee table with the files.

"Speaking of Foggy… what are those? I thought it was supposed to be a friendly meeting," she complained.

"It was, mostly. But he came across some clients. They can't afford fancy lawyers, but Foggy heard them out and passed on the cases to me."

Vera huffed.

"More pro bono work for you. Yay!" she cheered sarcastically and Matt frowned.

"They need help. And if they can't afford-"

Vera rolled her eyes, placing her index finger on his lips to shut him up.

"I know they need help. And you're the saviour, the lover of all humanity. I was kidding, Matt. I love this about you. I really do value that you prefer helping people to feathering your own nest. I just wish you found time for you to be happy between all of that, rest, allow yourself to breathe."

He kissed her finger, smiling, tilting his head.

"Well, it's not just my nest anymore. It's ours. And as long there's time for you-" He connected their lips quickly, just a passing touch. "-I am happy."

A shiver ran down her spine, definitely a pleasant one. Jesus, seriously, how could he be so good with his words? His hand, as if it sensed the path of the shiver, stroked her back gently.

"You're cold. I love this, but we should get dressed. I'm not much of a heater."

"You're the best heater," Vera protested, carefully climbing up. "Just not all around me."

Vera checked the time after she dressed up again, slightly horrified it was almost seven already. The gingerbreads were definitely ready to be put away now. She started on it, while Matt, only in his boxers, walked to the window, listening, probably checking if he was already needed outside.

Apparently, he was, because he headed to the ancient trunk, pulling out the suit. Vera closed the box with the sweets, spending precious moments watching him getting ready. The suit didn't look less kinky than the first time she had seen it, but it did grow on her – she understood what symbol it presented (which didn't change the fact that the helmet was a little dorky, good thing he didn't have it on yet) and that it _was_ an armour. She mentally thanked the guy who had made it, every night.

Matt turned to her, breathing in – probably to make some smug comment about her watching him – when he tensed, his attention caught by something her ears couldn't pick up.

And then she felt it; a slight tremor, the firm ground under her feet shaking, swaying. Her stomach made the same unpleasant flip it always did when an elevator going down stopped and her insides weren't counting on the movement. She managed to shoot Matt a panicked look before it happened again, messing with her balance. She had to grab the table so she wouldn't fall.

Matt was at her side with two long rapid steps, pulling her to his arms, drawing her in between the couch and the storage room where he kept the trunk. Her feet tangled as he pulled her, the floor still shaking; he let her fall, but not freely. She ended up lying on the ground in the most open space of the apartment where no falling objects could hurt her, not even a fucking pendant lamp she guessed; Matt hovered over her anyway, arms shielding her head, his body covering hers.

She heard mugs and plates shattering, loud enough to break through the rapid hammering of her pulse in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut cowardly and prayed for it to end; so far, it felt like the quakes were only getting stronger, the noise growing louder. The rattling of furniture, the breaking glass and ceramics, her own heart, Matt's breathing.

And then it was over. The ground swayed for the last time, lightly as an echo, and then there was nothing. The only thing that was shaking now was her.

Matt caressed her hair lightly, his lips on her temple. "Hey, it's okay. It's over. You're okay…"

Vera forced herself to exhale, realizing she had been holding her breath the whole time. She shakily breathed in, Matt's low voice in her ears. She blinked her eyes open; there were tears in them. Shit.

"You okay?" he _asked_ this time, worried eyes and poorly hidden freak out of his own. God, he was so caring and focused on her that it was almost scary. And she kinda loved him for that.

"Yeah," she rasped as he kissed her temple again, releasing her, standing up, helping her up as well. He winced as the first siren cut the air.

"Are you _going_ _to_ be okay?"

Vera nodded furiously, slowly realizing her fright was nothing compared to what could have happened to everybody else.

"Alright-"

"Is anyone in the building hurt?" she blurted out, voice still miles away from sounding normal.

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, shoulders twitching. He shook his head, watching her face with a tiny smile. "No. You can only worry about yourself. I'm gonna go. Be careful what you're stepping on."

Vera caught his hand as he reached for his helmet, gloves and billy clubs. He snapped his head back to her immediately.

"Be careful what you're stepping _into_ ," she pleaded. _You know, for example stepping right into a trajectory of a bullet or a bus that sounds like you._ "It's gotta be a complete chaos out there."

"It certainly sounds like it."

"Matt!" _Not helping!_

He let the gear lie on its place in favour to take her face into his palms, gently kissing her forehead. "I'm gonna be careful, okay? Promise."

Vera closed her eyes, mentally counting to million. Right. _Careful Matt;_ that joke wasn't even funny.

"I'm not that naïve. Just come back and shake me awake if necessary. Not that I'm planning on going to bed any time soon."

Matt gave her a tight smile. "Deal."

He took all the stuff he needed and jogged up the stairs, the door clicking behind him as if he was sealing his fate.

Vera breathed in deeply, putting on her shoes so she wouldn't have to deal with shards in her soles on top of everything. She wondered if Matt was already out of earshot. She kinda hoped he was. She leaned onto the wall of the hall and let her knees slowly give up, curling her arms around them, placing her head on them.

If Matt was out of earshot, she was allowed to freak out. A little.


	4. The new case

**new case**

The apartment was a mess. _Their_ apartment was a mess. Even with two blown light bulbs, she could still see that. Concrete dust on everything, documents all around the boxes that were on top – luckily the Braille printer survived; when Vera walked into the kitchen space, she could see that Matt's kettle (and she could call it Matt's, okay, she wasn't using it) for the coffeemaker wasn't so lucky. Laptops were intact, so there was an upside. Otherwise it was all glass and ceramic shreds, spices and culinary herbs all over the floor. She was sure it must have been quite pleasant for Matt's sensitive nose… not.

And hey, the candy seemed to survive too. She had to look at it from the bright side, right? She had just lived through an earthquake; if she was ever reliving, it might not be so scary. Except Vera was frankly sure she would be scared shitless just the same.

She put on some music, because otherwise she would go crazy from hearing the sirens (and from the imaginations of what Matt was doing out there, the intrusive noise only reminding her) and got to work.

It took her about a half an hour to realize she should have called her friends if they were okay.

Terri was. She had been with alone at her apartment, because Vic had been at work already, but apparently she had spoken to him and he was alright as well and on his way to her. Nina had been home with her husband, both okay. Trish was apparently alright too. Vera didn't know who else to call. She tried Claire, but she wasn't picking up – Vera tried to comfort herself with the idea of the nurse being in the hospital on duty and busy. Vera knew Danny was out of country, so she didn't even try. She didn't bother with Brett Mahoney either – firstly, he was a cop so he was probably out there, and secondly, he was a big boy and probably had bunch of better friends to check up on him.

Foggy called Vera before she could call him – they were both okay, Karen and him, though Karen was already out there, a reporter working on a story. Vera just hummed in sympathy at that, noting that Matt was obviously out too; Foggy apparently figured as much, but he didn't seem to appreciate the reminder, now worrying about two people instead of one.

The cleaning had no end. It was mostly small works, but there were _so_ _many_. Vera already started a list of things she would need to replace, starting with the light bulbs – to her shock, Matt did have two spare ones, but it was probably a good idea to stock them again. When she finally quit vacuum cleaning as well, it was almost midnight; she sent a quiet apology to their neighbours for being so loud at the hour, but no one had come to complain about it, so she guessed it was fine.

When showering, she missed a text from Matt. She found it later and it took her a while to translate the ' **Im nkax. Lotr oe worj.** ', mainly because she forgot how an actual phone keyboard looked like, but she really appreciated the effort, especially since he obviously texted her in hurry.

She nestled on the couch around half past one, hoping she would either wake up at his arrival or he would do it for her.

Matt did it for her.

She woke up startled by a touch on her shoulder, immediately snapping her eyes open, jerking up to a sitting position.

"Matt?"

His face was blurry in the light of the billboard, but she was pretty sure it wasn't soaking with blood. He had had the decency to take of his mask; if she had been woken up by the Devil, she might as well get a heart attack. He stopped her when she reached for her glasses on the coffee table.

"It's okay, you can move to bed."

Vera ran her hand down her face, yawning. She squinted at him even without the glasses, but in the dark and with him having the armour on, she really couldn't tell much.

"You're hurt?"

"I'm okay," he assured her, caressing her hair. "Nothing that needs your attention."

"That's not convincing."

She reached for her glasses once, but he caught her hand again, kissing her knuckles.

"Go to bed, Vera. I'll join you in a minute, okay?"

"I'll be counting down," she murmured, which made him laugh tiredly. She crawled to the bedroom, falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

She woke up when her personal heater joined her, covering them both. She muttered an approximation of 'love you', before she returned to the land of dreams. If Matt replied, she didn't hear.

Vera walked to work only to find out that the pipeline was damaged by the earthquake. Again. She spent there about an hour, helping to clean up with, until Mrs. Walker sent all girls home.

Vera wanted to stop by at Fogwell's, but it was too early. So she took the walk slowly, finally noticing all the damage around. It was insane. There were few people already working their asses off, possibly volunteering with no expectation of getting anything in return.

When Mr. Fogwell found her waiting outside of the gym, he gave her a grateful smile. It turned out her help wasn't really needed – sure she wiped the floors and the ring, dusted off everything else, but everything seemed to be mostly in place. And unlike at their apartment, there were no cracks in the walls.

For a good measure, she stopped in a church – there were tons of people, but she glimpsed Father Lantom there and he seemed healthy enough, so she just waved at him and disappeared. He had his hands full.

She couldn't neglect a store, buying what she had memorized from the list; a thing like a coffee pot for Matt's elixir of life was impossible to forget. She arrived home just before eleven.

The moment she shoved her keys to the lock, she could hear Matt's hurried pace.

"Hey, Matt."

He seemed awestruck and honestly worried, the baffled look completed by his messy hair, hoodie and comfy sweatpants stuffed in his fluffy socks. He was adorable. _Domestic_ , her mind supplied helpfully.

"Hey. You're early. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. You?"

He took the bags from her hands, giving her a quick kiss on her lips. Vera smiled unwittingly.

"I'm okay. Last night was a little crazy, but... yeah. Thanks for the clean-up, it must have taken forever."

Vera used the opportunity to shine as she followed him to the kitchen. "Well, it's _my_ apartment too."

Matt gave her a bright smile, placing the bags on the floor in the kitchen, kissing her properly before embracing her. "Nice one. How are you so early?"

"Pipeline at MDDC. Fogwell's was mostly alright. Not sure about the church, it was really crowded, but Father Lantom seemed okay too, just too busy."

He tensed. "You went to church."

"Well, it's not like Father Lantom is on my speed dial. I wanted to check up on him."

That earned her a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank you. Looks like you've been busy."

"Just wait for it. I brought you something."

Matt's curiosity caused him to release her from his embrace quite voluntarily. Vera ceremonially shoved the pot in his hands. His smile illuminated the room.

"I love you."

"I know."

Matt leaned backwards, resting against the couch, massaging the bridge of his nose. Vera stopped the water, wiping her hands dry.

He had been sighing the whole time through reading this particular file and Vera had tried her best not to disturb him when washing the dishes. Now, he looked like he needed _some kind_ of distraction.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, making her way to him.

His hand immediately fell to his side and he turned her face to her, poorly hidden worries in it.

"Yeah. Sure."

She raised her eyebrow, putting her hands on his shoulders; he was tense as if he carried the weight of the whole world on them. Well… what else was new. She didn't say anything, lightly squeezing, kissing the top of his head. His shoulders slumped and he kissed one of her hands, before turning his head forward so he could make her job easier.

"It's… it's the case file Foggy passed me yesterday. I don't—I'm not sure how to feel about it," he admitted sheepishly, relaxing a little bit more while she massaged his scarily tensed muscles. "The client, she killed a man."

Vera froze, her hands stopping their work.

"Why would Foggy give you a case file of a woman who killed someone? Was it an accident?" she asked after a while, forcing her fingers to continue.

"Oh, it definitely wasn't. She snapped his neck."

"Jesus."

"But that's not the case, she's not facing any charges for that."

"How could she-"

"Hogarth has been protecting her and the guy murdered several people, so technically, it was self-defence," he explained. "She's not just a client, she's more like a… freelancer, helping Hogarth with other cases. But she's a troublemaker. She's a private investigator."

Vera frowned, getting slightly irritated. Righteously so; the whole thing sounded like this Hogarth didn't want to be associated with her 'freelancer' anymore, because it stopped being convinient, so she passed her 'problem' to Foggy. Who passed it to Matt, naturally. Wonderful.

"And she's enhanced."

Vera's heart jumped at that.

"Enhanced?" she breathed, her mind racing _. Enhanced. PI. Troublemaker. Killed a guy._ That sounded too familiar.

"She apparently has accelerated healing and extreme strength," Matt exclaimed, sounding slightly doubtful, oblivious to Vera's reaction. But then again, who wouldn't react like her? When hearing about an enhanced individual who had killed someone, even in self-defence? Matt couldn't possibly know Vera had a different reason to be taken aback.

"Jessica," she murmured. There was no denying it. Matt had gotten his hands on Jessica Jones' file. Trish's friend. _Laser eyes._

Matt turned to her sharply, face screaming pure shock. Vera's hands fell from his shoulders, resting on the backrest of the couch.

"You _know_ who this woman is?!" he asked incredulously, his eyes comically wide.

Vera licked her lips, still processing.

"Well… yeah. And so do you," she informed him matter-of-factly and his expression turned brilliantly baffled. "You were there when she saved me."

"When she-"

Matt jumped to his feet, circling the couch so he could face her properly.

"Well, technically, you were there _after_. She's the one who fought off Stick." The name of Matt's ninja master burned on her tongue. She knew that guy was possibly dead and she should only say good things about the dead, but _Jesus_ , that guy was a _dick_.

Matt dully stared at her shoulder. Apparently, he was having a moment of recognition.

"In the alley. When he tried to-" Matt didn't finish the statement, gulping and Vera carefully took his hand, noticing his face had paled and twisted in a strange grimace, probably at the memory. Vera wasn't exactly fond of it either.

When he didn't quite react to her touch, she brought her other hand to his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. His arm wrapped around her tentatively, before his grip tightened, his nose nuzzled to the crook of her neck, breathing in.

"She's still getting coffee in MDDC. Small world, huh?" she whispered, kissing the side of his neck.

He just hummed in response, so she snuggled closer to him. He seemed exhausted. The yesterday earthquake left him with no time for sleeping properly and now the case file, bringing back unpleasant memories. He really deserved and _needed_ a hug.

Vera didn't know how long they stood like this, an octopus of bodies and limbs tangled together tightly. She felt his furiously hammering heart slowing down, his breathing getting calmer.

"I take it you'll take her case?"

"Well, I _do_ owe her a lot. Getting her out of trouble in the future is the least I can do."

"I would appreciate that. She's Trish's friend too, you know."

He tensed. "Trish Walker's friend?" he asked for a good measure and Vera just nodded.

"Small world, remember?"

Vera was honestly shocked when she was getting up the next day and Matt, who usually stayed down after she tried to sooth him he could still sleep, groaned, pushing up on the bed right after she had. She shot him a puzzled look.

"You're okay?"

Matt sighed. "I am. It's your friend. Or, well, Trish's friend. She's got arrested last night. I need to take care of that."

The sentence woke up Vera more effectively than her alarm. "Jessica?"

Matt just nodded, obviously exhausted.

"Jesus. Did you even get any sleep? What time did you arrive?" she worried, imagining Matt had gotten about two hours of sleep, if even. She didn't even remember when he climbed to the bed beside her, it had had to be really late; things were still rather crazy after the earthquake.

Matt frowned at her, apparently not fond of her interrogation at the early hour. "I'm fine."

Vera rolled her eyes at his response and headed to the kitchen. She put the kettle on, automatically starting Matt's coffeemaker as well, assuming he wouldn't function without his caffeine fuel.

She was fumbling around for cups and tea bag when his arms wrapped around her from behind. Apart from giving her a heart attack, he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, placing a sleepy kiss. She smiled, relaxing onto his body, covering his hands with hers.

"Morning," she whispered, feeling his lips spreading into a smile against her skin.

"Morning, love."

Huh-uh. With this behaviour, she might even let the terrible 'I'm fine' line that he kept using with everyone to get rid of them slide. He kissed another spot, higher. Yep, definitely on his way to forgiveness.

"You want coffee, right?"

He hummed in agreement, one of his hands slipping under her pyjama tee.

"Thank you. I wouldn't mind some breakfast with that coffee."

Vera bit her lip as his hand travelled higher and higher. His suggestion actually sounded agreeable. Goddammit, why didn't she get up earlier? Right, because getting up at 4:30 should be illegal, let alone trying it earlier.

She spun in his arms, considering her options. Seeing how sleepy he was despite his suggestions, she made a small noise of sympathy, kissing his nose.

"Matt, you look like you could use your coffee brewed with Red Bull instead of water." She almost added 'you poor thing', but she knew better than that.

He frowned, stealing a chaste kiss from her lips. And then one more.

"I think I'll pass. There are other things that can keep me up," he whispered to her mouth lightly, pressing her against the counter and it took Vera few seconds to understand that terrible innuendo.

She chuckled. "That was terrible, Matt."

 _On the other hand, the rest of what you're doing_ …. His fingers actually brushed her nipple this time. God, she was going to be late if she said yes.

"Was it? So I guess that the arousal I can feel radiating from you comes from the idea of drinking tea?"

He nibbled at her lower lip, one hand under her shorts on her bottom and the other making its way to her other breast. Goddammit shit _._ Yes, she was going to be late, _so what_.

Vera _did_ arrive to the café late. But she was grinning like an idiot, she had to give him that.

Matt walked into the Harlem precinct, tiredness in his bones, but with a smile on his face. Despite the alarming lack of sleep, the morning was more than bearable. He felt a little bad for making Vera be late for work, but she didn't seem to mind that much, possibly thinking it was worth it. So for few moments, Matt even thought today might be a good day.

While talking to the leading detective, the feeling was slowly resolving. The man might say Jessica Jones could walk free, but there was something on the case that wasn't right. And it wasn't just the fact that an architect had died in a PI's apartment after being shot – by himself.

Matt's ears picked up on the conversation taking place behind the closed door of an interrogation room and it was getting weirder and weirder. It wasn't helping that Ms. Jones apparently knew things she didn't want to share.

Matt had a bad feeling about this.

He thanked to the detective in a hurry, urging him to let him speak to his client. He wasn't sure if for the sake of his client or the detective, because Jessica Jones just broke a little and warned the other woman about walking into some serious shit.

"Jessica Jones, stop talking," he demanded the moment the door opened, sensing both women snapping their heads to him, their hearts skipping a beat.

Matt immediately recognized which belonged to Ms. Jones. The smell of whiskey and blood, connecting with the voice he heard earlier, it was like being in the alleyway with Vera after Stick all over again. Also, she was handcuffed to the table, so that was a huge hint.

"I'm sorry, who do you think you are?" the detective asked, rising from her chair. She was not happy about the interruption.

Matt tried to maintain his confident look, perfectly polite and assertive. "I'm Matthew Murdock, Ms. Jones' attorney."

" _Shit just got real…"_ Jones muttered under her breath, almost shaking Matt's confidence. What was that supposed to mean?

"Well, Mr. Murdock, I'm in the middle of something right now-"

"Ms. Jones is not obligated to answer any of your questions without consulting her lawyer first. I'd like to have a moment with my client, detective…?"

"Knight," the woman introduced herself sharply and Matt allowed himself to smile with just a little bit of irony.

"Would you be so kind to leave us alone, detective Knight?"

The detective gritted her teeth, obviously irritated, but uncuffed the PI, grabbed her files she had dramatically tossed at the table earlier and left the room. Matt cleared his throat, approaching the table.

"Ms. Jones, like I said. My name is-"

"I know who you are. Trish wouldn't shut up about the engagement for days."

Yeah, okay, that _did_ throw him off a little. But he would not fucking blush, they had work to do. He cleared his throat again. She beat him to speaking.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Murdock?"

"A friend referred me. Franklin Nelson. He works for-"

"Jeri Hogarth. Shocker," she noted wryly and Matt somehow got a feeling that this case was about to get even harder than he had thought. "Well, I didn't ask for anything, so I'm not paying you."

 _So much harder._

"You won't have to."

"Oh, because she'll foot the bill?"

"Yeah. And I'm a catholic; I have a soft spot for hopeless cases."

The moment the sentence left his mouth, two thoughts hit him at once. First, maybe he had underestimated the lack of sleep. And second, maybe he should have had some actual breakfast to provide his brain some sugar.

By the time Matt she walked free and he heard her speaking with Malcolm – who was the other witness, Matt presumed – he was confident this really was some _'weird-ass shit'_ as the PI had referred to it earlier, despite the fact she had denied anything strange about the case when Matt had asked her.

While still in his daily suit, he followed her. He listened to her conversation with the widow, hearing Jones' heart pick up speed after the widow opened the main door for her parents. Jones left in sure and rapid pace, giving Matt an impression of a person who was on someone's scent; it felt like a duty to follow her once again.

Focusing on the whiskey odour (and Matt realized it felt familiar, too familiar, because he had sensed it before, not only when he had met woman, but also when he had opened Vera's fridge after returning from Cambodia; and wasn't that just perfect) was next to impossible, but relying only on the sound of Jones' footsteps was a mistake as well. Matt had lost her on the crowded streets, too much noise covering the clacking of her boots on the pavement. He gritted his teeth, taking a sharp turn into an alley, hoping he would get a better overview.

It was a fool's hope. He answered Vera's text at least; she was asking how it had gone and if he was alright. Matt allowed himself a sweet moment of the feeling being cared for before focusing again.

By some miracle, he actually found the sound he was looking for, hearing the PI talk jovially with another architect. He didn't pick up everything, but he continued following her out of everyone's sight as long as it was faster. A minute after he got back down on the streets, the PI entered a tall office building. Matt had no idea why, what was so special about it, but he walked in right after her, using another entrance.

Jones was looking around and Matt grabbed her arm, tugging her along before she could find whatever she was looking for.

"Murdock!" she cried out, more surprised than anything else.

"We need to leave, now."

He could come back later. In the darkness of the night, providing at least a little protection; his suit would do the rest. And she wouldn't be here to distract him.

"You grab me like that again, I'll punch you so hard you'll see," she stated, annoyed but completely serious.

Matt considered her words. He had no experience with being on the receiving end of punches delivered by enhanced fighters, but if her strength could be at least partially compared to Danny's when he used his Iron Fist, she might not be wrong.

"Look, there's something really messed up about the case you took-"

"Yeah, I noticed, thanks. Why are you following me?"

Matt tried very hard not to wince at that, because how the fuck did she know he had been following her?

' _Because you just followed her into this building, you dumbass,'_ Stick's voice supplied helpfully and Matt bit his tongue before he could shut him up out loud. How the hell should he answer? By not answering at all, perhaps?

"You're in a serious danger-"

"You are the most full of shit _lawyer_ I've ever met and I think we should stop to appreciate the magnitude of that statement," she snarked, putting an emphasis on the word 'lawyer' as if she was questioning he was one.

Matt was getting on edge; he was never good at leading someone on and this woman, she wasn't easy to lie to. The only option was to get out of here under the pretence of further investigation and buy himself some time to figure out a way of dealing with this. Whatever this was.

"Let's talk about it somewhere else –"

"Let's talk about it never," she offered instead, not buying any of his shit. "Unless you wanna tell me how a blind man moves the way you do."

Matt froze, certain his heart just stopped. The way she had said 'lawyer' earlier. Now implying he could do something he shouldn't be able to do. What the— _keep it together, she's just trying to catch you off guard._

"Excuse me?"

"I have pictures, asshole."

The insult was honestly the last thing Matt cared about. Her pulse didn't even falter; she was telling the truth.

He panicked for a second before doing the only thing that made sense; he grabbed her camera and smashed it against the wall.

Her cursing got lost in the sound that always set all alarm bells in Matt's head off.

 _Gunshot_. A gun with a silencer, tens of stories above them.

"What are you doing?" the PI demanded, confused, possibly questioning his sanity.

"Gunshot," he informed her dryly. And why did he do that again?

"Where?!"

"Penthouse."

She kept talking but once again, there was something more interesting catching his attention; Danny's voice.

Gunshot and Danny's voice.

Well, _fuck._

"I need that."

Later, Matt spent few seconds being grateful for Danny not giving up Matt's name between the reunion of Jessica Jones with a huge man smelling of burned gunpowder that she seemed to be familiar with.

The relief lasted very shortly. What had started as a good day, gradually changing into a bad day, changed into one fucked up nightmare.

Hint: it wasn't just because he was thrown through a glass booth or broke a bookshelf with his back.


	5. Royal Dragon

**5\. Royal Dragon**

The peculiar group of four people – a lawyer, a PI, an ex-con and a poor excuse for a businessman – stumbled into a Chinese restaurant. It sounded like a beginning of a joke, but no one was laughing. Especially not the owner of the restaurant who had closed the door behind his last customers, turning the sign to read 'closed' just few moments ago.

"We're closed!" he announced to the four people who had stumbled in.

"We need to kill the lights," the man with a scarf over his face pointed out, immediately earning a response from the only woman who had arrived with the group.

"How do you even know they're on?!"

"I said we're closed!" the owner repeated, nervous about the strange visitors.

"Look, we just need to stay out of the streets…" the blond explained as if it made the situation better. The scarf man drew the blinds.

"Then do it somewhere else! I'll call the cops."

"You can't do that, you'll put them in danger," the big black man interjected, causing the owner to snap.

"I'll put YOU in danger!"

"Duh. I'm done explaining this," the woman lost her patience as well, grabbing a cabinet at the windows, tipping it over and blocking the entrance. Only two of five people in the room looked honestly shocked at that.

"Whoa, she's very strong…"

"Sir, this is for your protection. We need this place to look closed," the scarf man explained.

At this point, the poor excuse for a businessman finally figured out he could use some of his skills and started negotiating with the owner in a different language. Hearing his mother tongue, the man actually started listening.

"You speak Chinese?!"

Just to be a show-off, the blond responded the woman in Chinese indeed.

"I still hear neon," the scarf man announced.

" _Who_ hears neon?!" the black one wondered, not following.

"My blind and definitely more than just a lawyer…" the woman he knew – Jessica Jones – told him as if it explained something.

"Your what? What do you mean he's blind?"

"He just is… don't ask. I thought he was spying on me for some freaky reason, but now I'm not sure."

"Well, do you think he's on our side?" the big man – Luke Cage – demanded. Jessica gave him a look that spoke a thousand words, most of them being colourful curses.

"Our side of what?"

Luke had no response to that.

"Who's karate kid?" she asked, beckoning to the Chinese-speaking wannabe businessman.

"Danny Rand."

"Boy billionaire?"

"He's little off in the head, but he packs a mean right hook when it counts…" Luke admitted, a smile creeping to his face.

"So do you," Jessica smirked. The chemistry between them – either friendly or romantic kind – was undeniable. They clearly had a history.

"You okay?"

"Now, or in general?"

"Both."

"Well, I'm alive," she summed up, rather not going into details. She wasn't fond of what she would reveal. "You?"

"Just getting back into the world."

"From where?"

"Prison." The man grimaced, not exactly fond of his story either. It was one of the many things all four people who had arrived together had in common – an unenviable backstory. "Well… we'll talk about it later. How did you end up here?"

"I'm working a case."

"Yeah? How is that going for you so far?"

This time it was the PI who had no appropriate response, so she just made a face.

"All right, back door's clear. Everything is locked," the scarf man interjected, gaining a look from Luke.

"So we're gonna wait it out here?"

"You've got a better plan?"

"Is there a plan where I get my scarf back?" Jessica snarked, obviously done with the charade the man was playing.

"Just need it until this is over." He gestured between Luke and Jessica. "What, you two know each other?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

The PI thought for a short moment – no, there was no way and no need to sugar coat it. "We met. We drank. I shot him in the head."

To the surprise of both Jessica and Luke, the man chuckled.

"Why are you still wearing that thing?" Luke complained.

The scarf man was saved not by the bell, but by the Rand.

"Okay. He says we can stay."

"What did you tell him?" Luke asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Nah. I just gave him my black card, agreed to pay the rent for the next six months…"

Jessica eyed him before checking the expressions of other two men; had it really sounded so surreal only in her head? The blond offered her his hand to shake enthusiastically. "Hey, I'm Danny."

"Jessica."

"Good. Now there's just one guy whose name we don't know," Luke beckoned to the scarf man disapprovingly.

"Well, actually…" Danny started hesitantly and Luke shot him a look that meant ' _Then why don't you just tell me who he is, man?'_

"You know him?"

The scarf man – Matt Murdock – sighed, worried his friend might give his name away if he stayed quiet. "…we met."

"And we kicked some ass."

"Then why don't you just take it off?" Luke demanded, outraged. He did not like this. He did not like the man having the advantage of knowing them while Luke didn't know him.

"The less we know about each other, the better. This, it's too much already."

"Okay-" Jessica supported Luke, reaching for the scarf on the lawyer's face, only for her hand to be snatched away.

"Don't-"

"Jesus," the PI swore. What was his deal? Rand knew him, Jessica knew him – well, at least partly – and Luke was a cool guy. _Paranoid bastard._

"There are people I need to protect-"

"Well, you're not the only one-" Luke argued.

"He's got a point."

"Jesus, Danny. I'm not dragging-" Matt kept protesting, allowing Jessica to connect the dots. She had connected a different group of dots before, which led to one kinky reveal, but she wouldn't call that out on him just yet.

' _There are people I need to protect.'_ Jessica would bet a bottle of whiskey he was talking about his girlfriend – well, fiancée, _whatever_. Considering she had saved her before and Trish talked about her escapades from time to time, Jessica had to admit it was actually a valid worry.

"Of fucking course…"

"What?" Luke turned to her, still at lost.

"Look, the organization we just fought, they're powerful," Matt explained, only to be interrupted by Luke.

"Who were they?"

"They call themselves The Hand."

"Danny-" Matt warned him, not feeling good about dragging people into this. Not to mention they wouldn't believe-

"What are they _really_ called?" Jessica asked, unimpressed.

"He's right. But it doesn't matter."

"Bullshit it doesn't matter!" Jessica exploded, raising her voice. She was already getting fed up – ninjas, masks, stupid names, jeeez. She had been following a lead on a missing architect, who had shot himself in her apartment, _when_ did they step into this crazy-town? Oh _right,_ when an insane ninja spandex chic entered the scene.

Apparently, the PI wasn't the only one who had enough – Luke felt the same. Obviously, these two yahoos knew stuff; and they fucking weren't sharing. "Yeah, I'm with her."

"Me too. It does matter," Danny spoke up, the Immortal Iron Fist crawling out of him. "We need to figure out our next move."

"There is no 'next move', Danny."

"And there is no 'we'," Jessica supported Matt unexpectedly. "They came at us, we fought our way out, let's call it professional courtesy, end of story."

"It's not that easy. These people, they're dangerous-"

"So am I! Now somebody tell me what do I need to know about 'the Hand', so I can be on my way."

Her not exactly polite plea got lost as the owner and a cook started bringing food on one of the tables. What the actual hell?

"…what is THAT?!" Luke demanded, really annoyed at the fact he was the one who literally understood shit in here.

"Oh. Uhm… as the part of the deal, he made me order four of everything…" Danny explained reluctantly, earning a look from everyone. Well, almost everyone.

"We're not here to eat!"

Danny ignored Luke's note. "Are those pork?"

"No. They're shrimp." Matt corrected him, sighing as he remembered Danny was sometimes just an overgrown child. Most of the time, actually.

The Immortal Iron Fist, the sworn protector of an ancient mystical city, made a puppy face, disappointed by Matt's answer.

"This guy's got pork," Matt soothed him.

"Great!"

"God, you're weird." Jessica was indeed done with this shit. But she needed to know stuff. So she followed the three men to the table.

"The Hand is an ancient criminal organization," Danny announced as if it was an explanation.

"Define 'ancient'." Seriously. What was this bullshit? Luke knew Claire had tried to make the two of them to talk about it before, but… what?

"They live forever."

"Wanna try that again?" Jessica asked sceptically.

It was Matt who spoke up, slowly giving in involuntarily. "They live by fanatical ideology and every member is willing to die to protect it."

"So they're terrorists," Luke stated and Matt made a discontent half-face.

"No. Terrorists want the world to know what they're doing; this is something more secret… more _evil."_

"And they're global," Danny supplied.

"So what do they do?"

"Everything."

"Including the recruitment of young men in Harlem?" Luke asked, surprised and baffled.

"Apparently. Look, they've been in New York for a while and I don't know why."

"Little warning would be nice, you know," Matt sighed again, wishing to be somewhere else.

The Hand was in New York. Perfect. Of course it was. He finally had something steady. Something good, great, amazing even. There was no way it would last. Of course his past would come to bit him in his ass. _Again_.

"You said you were done with it. I respected that," Danny explained gently.

Well, the Hand apparently didn't. Still, Matt was abashed. That was surprisingly mature of the other man. He sometimes forgot Danny might be a child, but also was his friend.

"I-"

"What do you mean by 'fanatical ideology'?"

"This is gonna sound crazy—" Matt answered Jessica instead of Danny, supporting him at least a little, pleased by his care.

"What do they want?"

"Immortality. They want power and influence at every level across the world. … and I think they want me."

That sentence quickly erased Matt's sentiment efficiently. Not so mature then. "And you still didn't think it was worth sharing?! Danny, I wouldn't let you fight this alone-"

"Really?" Danny asked, unsure.

"Of co-"

"Stop the drama right there," Jessica demanded resolutely, unimpressed. "What do they want with you?"

"…is this about the fist thing?" Luke wanted to know.

"There _had to_ be a better way of phrasing that…" Danny closed his eyes, shaking his head inconspicuously.

Jessica would smirk if she knew what the 'fist-thing' actually meant. "Wait, what is he talking about?"

"I'm the Immortal Iron Fist. The sworn protector of Khun-Lun."

"What are you on, lithium?" Jessica questioned his sanity and honestly the sanity of everyone in the room. Okay, this was getting really insane. This was not her division.

"…okay. Let's say you're right. Who was the woman with the swords?" Luke changed topics to Jessica's not exactly delight, considering, but at least swords and guns she could handle.

"I don't know. But I fought her in Cambodia-"

"You were in Cambodia again?!" Matt burst out. Danny had said he was just going abroad!

"…and she showed up at my doorstep," Jessica added.

"She's the one who came after your client?"

Matt was getting more confused with each second. Not that he could make any sense of what he had thought he had seen at Midland Circle. It was impossible. He must have been losing his mind from too much stress and repeated head traumas. He had been hallucinating. He hadn't met… _her_ at Midland Circle. No.

"Why, do you know her?"

"No." And Matt actually believed that, because he really, really wanted to.

"Well, she sure knew what she was doing."

"The Hand trains their fighters to be merciless, but, man, she was something else." Danny turned to Matt. "We never fought anyone like her."

And that was the ceiling to Luke's patience. There was a crazy ninja cult, with crazy ninja chic with swords, this scarfed guy looked like he was lying about not knowing her and he was cryptic as hell ever since Luke had met him.

"Okay, that's it. _You_ need to put it all on the table-"

"I really don't," Matt protested, losing patience as well. The Hand was in the New York. In Hell's Kitchen. Last time a ninja cult had appeared in Hell's Kitchen… "What I need to do is to check up on-"

"Hey!"

"Look, I don't know you Mr. Cage and I don't owe you anything-"

Matt started walking away, mind already at home. The Hand didn't mean Stick, the Hand might not know where he lived, they had no idea he had been in Cambodia with the Chaste, but he just couldn't take any chances. If they figured out it was Daredevil fighting them at Midland Circle, they might come after her. If they figured out he was Matt Murdock, they would definitely come after her, apart from others. If they figured out he was both… well. Fuck.

Luke's hand tightly gripping his shoulder stopped him. "And I don't _trust_ you. You're not just walking away."

"You wanna take your hand of my shoulder?"

"Take. Off. The mask," Luke demanded, emphasis on each word.

"Let go of me or you're not gonna like where this is heading."

"Try me," the taller man challenged him with a smirk, the atmosphere in the room suddenly much thicker.

"Whoa, whoa. Stop it. I think we can trust him-" Danny tried to calm Matt down, vainly.

"I don't."

Jessica rolled her eyes. They so didn't have time to compare dicks right now. "Oh, boy. Counsellor, a word?"

She eyed Matt's sort of a friend, disappointed. Shouldn't he know how to reason with him?

"What? He's stubborn…"

Kindergarten, seriously. She led Matt away and he grabbed his jacked on the way, taking it on.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, tone challenging.

 _Home._ "None of your concern. You're gonna need another lawyer."

"Why did you follow me to the building?"

"Ms. Jones? Lose my card," he advised, asking himself the same question. Maybe he had really just wanted to keep his word and keep the PI away from trouble and it had gotten out of hand. To his defence, he had no idea this case was _that_ shitty.

"I wish I could."

"Look, I've been down this road before-"

"Yeah, I kinda got that. I know who you are," Jessica stated. She wanted her scarf back. And she wanted this shit to be over with and apparently, this guy was – apart from being a paranoid bastard which was something she couldn't quite blame him for – essential for that.

"No, you really don't," he cooled her down smugly, ready to leave.

"You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Or Devil Boy, or whatever you like to be called."

That erased the smugness from his face, making him freeze. Matt was fairly certain his heart just stopped. He should have seen it coming. She was a PI, she was Trish's friend, she knew Vera, hell, she had saved Vera's life right before Matt finally had gotten his ass to the alley where Vera had been assaulted. But he was not ready to admit she was right.

"Whatever you're insinuating-"

"Oh, _please_. We've met back in the day when you were still wearing your black pajama and I had to save your girlfriend's ass. I'm a PI. I put two and two together. And you leaping around the city like a Russian gymnast didn't exactly help either."

She didn't even hesitate. She was sure of whom he was. Wonderful. This day just kept getting better.

The only thing he could do was to state the obvious. "You don't have any prove."

"I did! You smashed it!" she complained. If she didn't have more pressing issues, she would bully him into buying her a new camera. Sadly, she had much bigger problems. "I'm not threatening you, I'm just stating the obvious. Karate Kid apparently already knows and Luke saw you fight and hide your face. He's two seconds from figuring out himself."

Matt set his jaw tight. This was a loss of time. He needed to go. "What do you want from me? A thank you for saving Vera's life? Thank you. But that's what I'm trying to do here. Again."

"I want nothing. And I want zero to do with this ancient organization. I just want to crack my case. And judging by the way you sprang into action and talked to Boy Billionaire, I think you don't exactly want to stay behind either. Yes, you can run check up on your girl right now or we can at least share some fucking info so we know better what we're dealing with. Your call, Murdock."

Jessica walked back to Danny and Luke, eyeing them confidently. She knew Murdock wouldn't leave. She might have met his civil persona only this morning, but despite the popular opinion she was trying to spread, she _was_ giving a shit and she had heard stories. And she could read people.

It was maybe fifteen seconds later when she heard his footsteps approaching and her scarf was shoved back into her hands.

"My name is Matthew."

"And here I thought you prefer 'Matt'…" Danny hummed, earning a sigh from the blind man. Luke just nodded approvingly.

They were all siting at the table, finally eating. While Matt did not like the fact two other people knew about his double life, he appreciated the food at least. He couldn't remember what was the last time he had eaten.

Besides, Jessica had apparently already knew before. Luke was a little bit more surprised.

"I heard a lot about him. He went awol for three months – they said he was injured."

"That's not exactly what happened. I was in Cambodia, where I met Danny," Matt explained shortly, uncomfortable. Food was okay, planning was okay, but spending too much time here – not okay.

"But that doesn't make any sense."

"It's a long story. One that I'd rather not tell," Matt admitted, shifting in his seat. Too much time. The Hand in New York. Vera. "More importantly, my identity is a secret I keep not just for the sake of protecting myself, but also for the people that I love."

"Okay, I get that. Still don't get the other thing though. How can you do what you do? You're blind."

"Well, sight is overrated."

"He's got super-senses," Danny supported helpfully.

"Huh. Okay, I guess…. Now, we need to come up with some kind of a plan here."

"The only plan is how we get these people off our backs. Ideally, in a way that doesn't incriminate us," Jessica said, pointing out yet another problem.

"Incriminate us? What are you talking about?" Danny asked, not following.

"None of us is on police payroll."

"What we did there was trespassing and aggravated assault," Matt explained to Danny. Danny was still new to all this, the normal world. Though Matt wasn't sure what the definition of 'normal' was anymore. Well, it wasn't a life in a mystical city with a whole different set of rules, that was for sure.

"And vigilante bullshit," Jessica added.

 _Well, she's not wrong,_ Luke thought. He watched the exchange, his mind racing. This thing was big, way bigger than they could handle alone. They needed help. Someone who _was_ on policepayroll.

"Look, there is one cop I think we can trust. I think we should bring her in."

"No, you'll be putting her in danger," Matt protested immediately.

"As will anyone who go against the Hand. As for doing this any legal way… well, you all saw what happened when I tried that."

"Is that what that was?" Luke doubted.

"Well, it started that way. I mean, look, I ever put on a tie!"

"You could have called me," Matt offered, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Matt-"

"Anyway. I promise you can't fight these people, Luke. Not even with whatever powers you have. Going on them head on, it'll only get you killed."

"Only if we do it alone," Danny hummed, gesturing lightly among all of them. Silence fell.

"No," Jessica protested, half disgusted, quarter amused and quarter horrified at the idea.

"Look, these people took everything from me. I'm gonna take them down one way or another."

"Danny-"

"I wanted to help one kid. One family," Luke stated, gesturing as well.

"I'm the first to admit, when I'm over my head and this is way past my threshold," Jessica exclaimed, feeling like she was the last person in this room who was thinking rationally. Though Matt and Luke had their moments.

"What are you talking about? Bulletproof. Blind ninja," he listed, pointing in the direction of Luke and then Matt. He hesitated with labelling Jessica. "Whatever it is you are-"

"Classy."

"I tried being a one man army and I failed. But this? This feels like something else it's at work here… the four of us, showing up to fight this criminal organization at the same moment? How obvious does it have to be? This… this cannot be an accident."

Matt's smile was a little patronizing. Danny was like an alien in this world. A child. Naïve and optimistic, a good friend and a fighter, a kid who was put too much responsibility on.

"Okay, Danny I know you mean well, but the four of us… we're not what you think we are, alright? We're four very different people and while we might all have been trying to do some good, we need to be rational about how we proceed-"

Matt stopped in the middle of his thought, his ears picking up a sound he was hoping not to hear – a lock clicking. Someone got in. One person.

An old man with a katana, familiar footsteps and too familiar heartbeat. This day was turning fabulous with each minute passing.

"Oh, you gotta be shitting me."

"What?" Danny pried, recognizing Matt was focused on something no one else could pick up.

Two seconds later, he heard the newcomer as well and three of four people jerked to their feet, startled, ready to fight.

The man entering the room was enough of an answer to Danny's question.


	6. Losing balance

**6\. Losing balance**

An old blind man walked into a Chinese restaurant. It still wasn't a joke. He was bloody, he was missing a hand and instead of a cane, he had a katana in his other hand. And he was the enemy of the Hand.

"This… is a one shitty excuse for a hideout," the man gestured among the four people.

"Stick…" the other blind man in the room sighed, slowly rising from his chair as well, just waiting to wake up from this fucked up nightmare.

"Matty."

"Holy dragon…" Danny breathed, shocked. He had honestly thought that guy was dead.

"Who the hell— wait. I know you. You're the-" Jessica looked at Murdock incredulously. This was the guy who- what the fuck? "You actually _know this asshole?!"_

"Unfortunately."

"I'm wounded, Matty," Stick exclaimed, seemingly not wounded by his words at all.

"Wait, do _you_ know this guy?" Luke asked Jessica with disbelief. It looked like he was once again the only one who was completely lost and he hated it.

"Yeah. He tried to strangle his fiancée. I happened to be passing by."

Danny snapped his head in Matt's direction. "Wait, he tried to _strangle_ her too?! You didn't tell me that!"

"You know his fiancée?" Luke turned to Jessica, confused.

"Fiancée?" Stick wolf-whistled sarcastically. Not only his student was not learning from his own mistakes, he was actually making it worse. He had to give it to the girl though, she was a tough cookie. "Mazel tov, kid. Another nail to your coffin. She's tougher than I thought though. She's a stubborn piece of shit, isn't she? She just doesn't know when to die…"

Matt leaned forward, his voice sharp like glass. "I swear if you touch her again-"

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it? I wasn't the one leading the blade and Jacques didn't aim for her heart. I should have done it myself. Then again, it was quite spectacular to listen to her choking on her own blood…" Stick remembered fondly, causing Matt to lunge at him.

Danny wrapped his arms around Matt's body, stopping him before Matt could hurt the man. He had to use some remains of his chi; without it, Matt would yanked from his grip with no trouble.

"Whoa, whoa, Matt-"

"Cool it down, kid. She's alive, isn't she?"

Stick was not impressed; in contrary, he was disappointed that the kid was under the control of his emotions.

Luke's gaze flickered between Stick and the other two. "Wait. Slow down. You all know this guy and he tried to kill your fiancée? Twice?"

"Yeah, I think you got it about right," Danny hummed, loosening his grip a little as Matt gradually stopped trying to free himself, his raged breathing slowing down. He just kept watching Stick's figure like a hawk. Or perhaps a vulture. Danny let go of him completely, taking a hesitant step back.

"Well, who the fuck is he? The Hand?!" Jessica demanded, earning a confused look from Luke. He had thought she knew who this guy was…?

"No. There's another organization. The one we fought for-"

"We call ourselves the Chaste."

"God, these names are killing me-" Jessica complained, now 120% done with this.

She had thought this could not get crazier. She had been wrong, apparently. Then again, the puzzle pieces were slowly falling into place; except the picture was really big and they barely finished one corner.

"And we're the only reason the Hand hasn't won the war yet. I like to think we might have even won, if _some_ of our warriors got their heads out of their asses."

Matt's shoulders twitched and Danny's hand was on his arm at instant to keep him from murdering Stick on spot. Matt had a strict no-killing policy, but if there was one person he would do an exception for, it was the man who had nearly killed Vera. Twice, apparently.

"You know, I don't think you're helping, Stick."

"It doesn't matter. The army is dead. Everyone except me, you and lover boy over here."

"No. I'm not part of this war," Matt stated, voice icily calm, all the rage bubbling inside. God, he wanted to strangle this piece of shit. He might have owed him for what he had once done for him, but there had been a lot of shit in between that overweighed it.

"You said you went to Cambodia to fight alongside Danny," Luke reminded him, baffled. If Matt had been shitting them, _again_ …

"Not voluntarily. I agreed to come when I thought she was dead. And later, to keep the fact she's still alive secret from them."

"Well, tough shit, Matty, the war came to you now."

"How did you find us?" Matt deadpanned.

"Easily. This _Immortal Iron Fist,"_ he snarked, "living weapon and protector of ancient city, is a thundering dumbass. I thought you got the rules, kid. Shit like this will get you killed."

"I— I tried to call Colleen, I told her where I was- where is she?" Danny stuttered, looking at everyone, slightly embarrassed.

"Safer than we are. Small mistakes, personal ties… these are what they'll use to end you."

"Poetic," Matt noted, irony dripping from the word.

It made Jessica snap. At this point, she was 140% done. "This is shit. What— what happened to your hand?"

"I cut it off to free myself… not important. Now I need your help."

"And here it comes," Matt chuckled darkly; only a fool would consider the sound an amused one.

"Here what comes?" Luke turned to him expectantly. Jessica wanted to ask the same question.

"This is what he does. He enters your life and fucks it up; the next thing you know, you're watching the people you love die," Matt explained, his voice dropping at the end.

"Oh, for God's sake, get over it!"

"Get over-" Matt gasped incredulously, leaning forward once again.

And Jessica Jones decided she really did not want to be part of this. She was Jessica fucking Jones, she didn't need this, her life was enough of shitstorm already. She would just focus on her case, end of story.

"I'm out of here. I don't need drama and-"

"You sit down and shut up!" the old blind man ordered, causing her to raise her eyebrow at him; an expression asking him if he was for real without saying a single word.

She was Jessica fucking Jones and she was not taking shit from anyone. She was not listening to anyone's commands.

She walked out the room with the door flying open.

Matt had no interest in hearing about the nonsensical war again, but he didn't have much of a choice. Luke needed to be brought up to speed. Unlike Danny, Matt wasn't interjecting Stick's narration; unlike Danny, who had been preparing to fight this war his whole life and despite running away from Cambodia once was still devoted to it. It was in his soul, in his blood, in his freaking Chi. He was the Immortal Iron Fist. He was bound to this.

Apparently, so was Matt, no matter how much he hated it.

Matt was listening to the noise outside, checking for anything suspicious that would indicate immediate danger, but he was distracted. By everything. Danny talking to Luke, Stick, _Jesus_ , Stick redoing the bandage on his amputated hand and speaking of hands… Matt ran his own down his face.

When he had taken Jessica's Jones case, the last thing he had imagined had been it leading to the Hand, which was now apparently operating in New York. Matt's past came back to haunt him. The Hand. Stick. And… and Elektra. He wasn't sure, it had been _years_ since he had seen her, but everything about the woman – about the warrior, about the- the person whose heart was silent as if- how was that even possible? Matt was sure his senses were deluding him, that— thing? Person? It couldn't have been Elektra, but the moment he had said her name, she had wavered. A short moment of hesitation, her breath hitching. _Breathing_. But her heart made no sound.

And Matt knew her heartbeat. He had always heard it loud and clear. Once, he had thought their hearts sounded right together – her flame was bright and fierce. Once, he had thought they were meant to be; until he had found out that her flame burned. If Vera was a candle, a torch, a hearth, occasionally bursting into sparks in the best way possible, Elektra was a forest fire; captivating, unchained force, freedom with no limits, burning passion, but leaving nothing but ashes behind. Where Matt thought Vera was bringing the best out of him, he could in retrospect tell that Elektra had been bringing out the worst.

Matt had never spoken to her since the night they had broken into Roscoe Sweeney's house and after a while, he had learned it wasn't a bad thing, even though the path to that realization had been painful.

And now what? He had seen her again, he couldn't hear her heart and— he knew she was skilled in fighting, but what the fuck was _that?_ And there had been the force he had been sensing, the unknown power that could not have been human. How- and what was she doing with the Hand in the first place?

"You've crossed paths with her, haven't you?" Stick's voice snapped him from his thoughts and the first comeback that came to Matt's mind was ' _shut the fuck up and fuck off'._

Stick was the reason this whole mess was happening in the first place. Matt knew his life would be a whole different story if he had never met the man, he would never become what he was, but Stick had also brought him a lot of pain and whole lot of shit.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he snarled, irritated.

Matt really, really wanted to punch him. He had wanted before, several times just tonight, starting with his dramatic entrance, featuring his pure delight when talking about Vera dying, ending with… the old man _breathing_.

"You know what I'm talking about. The Black Sky."

Stupid, meaningless words filled Matt's mind. Stick's bullshit about the war, about the weapon that needed to be destroyed – the weapon that Stick had claimed to be in a kid, other times in an adult, but always something dangerous, deadly, the weapon that would allow the Hand to win their war.

Matt chuckled darkly, no traces of humour. Sure. Great. His ex-girlfriend was an ancient weapon. Why not?

"The Black Sky," Matt repeated dully.

"I tried to keep Ellie in check, I really tried, but the moment they resurrected her, activating the weapon, something must have snapped in her…"

Matt's blood turned into ice in his veins, his heart forgetting how it was supposed to work. The only thing he could hear was his mentor's voice, saying a name. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the word 'resurrected' was flashing in neon lights as well, but-

" _Ellie?"_ he choked out, losing the firm ground under his feet.

Stick _knew_ Elektra? What, had he tried to recruit her too? After she had disappeared from Matt's life? Was that how she had gotten so good at fighting?

"Little Ellie, pretty face and eyes of a scared lamb they said, but deadly since the beginning…" _Little Ellie?_ What—what- did that mean- "Oh, Matty. I can hear your mind racing. It had been racing ever since I've come in here, and you wanted to run away from this. You can't, kid. You never had a choice."

There was a ringing in his ears. Loud and painful, disorienting. Of course Matt knew he hadn't been the only one who had a role in Stick's plan. But… Elektra? Stick had known her as a child? Trained her? Abandoned her, just like he had abandoned Matt? Had Elektra had those skills when she had been with him, hiding them? Matt was sure he was going to be sick. Or that he _was_ going to punch Stick, was going to make him bleed, break a bone or two or _something_ , because what. The. Actual-

"She was talented, Matty. No one was a match for her. She was deadly, completed every single task with no mistakes. And then you came and she failed, coming with her tail between her legs, babbling about winning the war without so much death, muddled by your nonsense. She failed to recruit you and even let you turn her…"

" _What?"_ Matt heard himself breathing, the world he thought he knew crumbling in a pile of dust. No, he was interpreting this wrong, whatever Stick was saying-

"The war, kid. The war we're fighting. You were a mission, the only mission Elektra has ever failed to finish. Right before she left."

Matt's hearing was shit because of the roaring blood in his temples, but he could hear that the old man's heart was perfectly steady. He was telling the truth. Elektra had been sent to Matt, because it had been her mission. Their meeting, their relationship, it had all been just a mission. No coincidences, no fate. No choice.

The world fell apart.

There was something unmistakably and disgustingly true about the saying that it always could be worse. While Matt's world was falling apart, the firm ground under his feet disappearing, he picked up the noise from outside – a dangerous noise, roaring of weapons, too many furious heartbeats. And one more in the same room as them.

A strange heartbeat, strong and weak, loud and silent. Alive and dead. The woman was talking about life and death too, trying to turn Danny against what he had been taught. Matt wasn't sure if he was glad Danny was so stubborn; because while he didn't betray their little group of renegades, featuring a bulletproof man, two blind fighters and Danny himself, he sure brought the anger of the Hand upon them. That was the moment the real roaring started.

Jessica returned, fighting alongside them, but she wasn't the only woman joining the fight. Elektra did too. Meeting her again, hearing no heartbeat, watching her blindly obey to the command of the Hand… Matt couldn't be angry with her, not with Elektra. Elektra, who had been manipulated since childhood, Elektra who Matt had always thought was nothing but the impersonation of freedom, was once again under the influence of evil, stealing more than just her own free will from her and it was on him. She had run from Stick because of Matt, because she believed Matt words, free will crawling out— and it had led to her death.

And she hesitated again. She fought him, but she hesitated, just like she had at Midland Circle as if she remembered him, as if there were still traces of Elektra Natchios, her own person, despite some stupid tale about an ultimate weapon. Matt tried to talk to her, to light up the spark of _something_ — only to be interrupted.

The next thing Matt knew, he wasn't alone and one of theirs was taken.

It felt like he was losing everyone around him all the freaking time; people, _lives_ just slipping between his fingers.

Luke might have been taken, but he wasn't an easy guy to deal with. He had won. The bulletproof man had won and even brought their peculiar group, which had moved to a dojo owned by Danny's girlfriend, a captive. One of the Fingers of the Hand. The argument they had been having about Matt leaving to fight 'the chick in spandex' was cut off. Small victories.

And every victory came with a prize. Learning the truth was never easy. They might have caught one of the Hand's own, one of their leaders, but his words were not helping them. The man remained irritatingly calm, a mean lizard smile audible in his voice, plastered to his face as well no doubt. He seemed amused at their attempts to stand up against the Hand, to save the city.

"You are nothing," he reacted to Danny's questioning. He wouldn't give up the secret, their plan, playing with them instead. "Danny Rand failed an entire city. The place he was sworn to protect."

Danny gritted his teeth, looking away as the man easily found his sore spot. But Sowande didn't stop there.

"The same way the unbreakable one let that boy die in a jail cell. Afraid and alone."

This might be new information for Matt, finally truly learning Luke's motivation, but while he knew only little about the man, he could tell Sowande hit Luke precisely where it hurt. He continued.

"The same way the woman couldn't save the architect." Jessica scoffed, offended, not wanting to show him he hit a nerve again. The man mocked her once more. "What's wrong? Have I gotten in your head the same way _he_ did long ago?"

Jessica lunged after him at the mention of Killgrave and Luke stopped her in the last moment, wrapping his hands around her forearm which was ready to strike. "Hey, hey, hey!"

Sowande had nothing in particular to call out Matt on, but his next words got under Matt's skin as deeply as if the leader of the Hand aimed right for him. The man's voice sent icy shivers down Matt's spine.

"What about the ones you still love? What will become of them once you are gone? Who else must die because of you?"

Matt's blood run cold. This man seemed to know everything so far. What were the chances he was bluffing now? Just testing their limits?

Matt had thought about that before. Whether they had recognized Daredevil in him or Matt Murdock, one particular person was in danger. The rest just depended on which persona they had discovered. Matt could only be so naïve to hope they hadn't made the connection with either of the two. The panic clenched his insides painfully.

"What are you talking about?" Luke asked the question that burned on everyone's tongue.

"The nurse. The barista. The woman on the radio. They'll come for them next. How many mice must drown with you?" Sowande exclaimed, not expecting an answer.

He got one nevertheless; Jessica was to one to deliver it. She punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious.

"He talked too much."

As if it could erase the man's threat that echoed in the suddenly silent room, bouncing off the walls, soaking through their skin and flesh right to the marrow of their bones.

The Hand knew everything. About their past, about the present, about what defined their future.

' _The nurse.'_

Claire. They knew about Claire, the closest person to Luke.

Matt's mind deliberately skipped the next person the man had mentioned, protecting his own sanity, carrying on with another hint.

' _The woman on the radio.'_

Trish Walker. The person Jessica cared for the most.

' _How many mice must drown with you?'_

None. Not one person would get hurt, not for being connected to them-

 _Yeah? And how you're gonna stop them? How you're gonna stop them from— from-_

 _Say it. Say it, it won't make a difference. You can't run away from this._

An impossibly huge lump grew in Matt's throat, his heart clenched by a cold hand, squeezing his lungs as well, making his breathing almost impossible.

' _The barista.'_

Vera. They knew about Vera too. And they were coming for her next.


	7. Harlem shelter for endangered species

**7.** **The Harlem shelter for endangered species**

The last time Vera had heard from him could have been around noon. He had texted her it had gone well, but there had been still things he had needed to take care of. She had smiled at the phone and served another customer. They would probably meet at home.

She hadn't freak out when she arrived and he still hadn't been there, not even when she had made late lunch and he had still been nowhere in sight. Time dragged.

But at six, she was getting really nervous. Not having a fit-box lesson (she a cancelled because of the tremors) didn't help her anxiety – all she could do was to wait and she didn't like it. Matt hadn't stop by for his suit, so she assumed his absence in their flat was caused by a civil problem, but that was probably even scarier. He had been assigned with Jessica Jones' case. Vera doubted paperwork took _that much of a time_ to fill in. The problem must have been somewhere else; Jessica Jones was a troublemaker and an enhanced one. The knot in Vera's stomach was getting tighter with each minute. She even considered calling Trish to find out if she knew something, but it felt wrong.

By ten p.m., she was a wreck, her teeth clattering, checking her phone so often she had to charge it as she kept lighting it up over and over, hoping for at least a short message. Nada. She kept trying to call him with no result. By midnight, she forced herself to take a shower and nestled on a couch under two blankets, Matt's warmest hoodie on. Her jaw refused to stop trembling.

Vera would have a morning shift the next— _today_ , which meant getting up at an unholy hour, but sleep was the last thing she was thinking about right now. By two o'clock she made herself tea. At some point, she fell into a restless sleep despite her determination not to. She kept waking up, falling back into unconsciousness before she could even make herself to open her eyes, only intruding light of the billboard outside dancing behind her eyelids.

The second she heard the keys rattling in the lock, she jolted awake, knocking over her unfinished tea she had left on the coffee table. She jumped to her feet, almost falling backwards as her muscles were barely awake. Her heart was pounding. She didn't even bother to put on her glasses, stumbling towards the door – towards Matt's blurry figure. She threw her arms around him with a sob, burying her face in his shoulder.

He squeezed her in a crushing hug, nose nuzzling in her hair and breathing in deeply – something she didn't seem to be able to do due to the force he was holding her with. Vera tried to calm down her rapid breathing, useless gasps for air, tried to stop her body shaking, because Matt was here, she didn't have to worry anymore, but _Christ_. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, where the fuck he had been, what had happened, but she couldn't find her voice.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay, I got you," he murmured into her hair, over and over again, like a mantra, and she would swear she heard him say " _thank God, you're okay_ ," but she must have been wrong, because _Jesus shit_ why wouldn't _she_ be okay? She wasn't the one who had disappeared for a day without a single hint where and why apart from the information he had met with a woman with _super-strength._

Matt _seemed_ to be okay, at least physically, though exhaustion was radiating from him in waves together with endless relief. Vera couldn't stop panting, feeling lightheaded from the oxygen overdose – the fact she knew she was about to pass out if she wouldn't stop wasn't helping. Matt took care of that problem in the easiest way possible. He took her damped face between his palms, smacking their mouths together brutally, making her gasp and feel lightheaded for a whole different reason. It was very efficient.

Vera was finally able to speak when he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

"Are you okay?"

Matt licked his lips, not answering, his palms still framing her face. He was right here with her, but he was still scaring her. The kiss he had just given her was intense – like the-world-is-ending intense. It was freaking her out and the fact he wasn't able to answer such a simple question was not helping at all.

"Matt, _are you okay?"_ she demanded, raising her voice to be more than a whisper and he stole any other words from her mouth with another kiss.

"Yeah. I am now," he rasped, one of his hands wandering into her hair, caressing, before his fingers clutched it. He took a deep breath.

"What happened? Where have you been? Why didn't you-"

He stopped the waterfall of her words by his thumb running over her lower lip.

"I love you. I promise I'll tell you everything, okay? But we need to go now."

Her chest was clenched by invisible force, much stronger than the one Matt had used before. It knocked the air out of her lungs as well, but this time there was nothing sweet about it.

" _What?"_ she choked out, completely lost.

Go where? What was he talking about? Was it something about Jessica's case? Something about Daredevil? Something else?

"Vera, please, I know you have a million questions right now, but please." His lips pecked her forehead as if the tender gesture would make her understand. The only thing she understood, seeing his face at close distance but free of his grasp, was that he was exhausted and terrified.

"Take stuff for a few days tops, we're going to Harlem-"

"Harlem?"

"Luke knows a cop, he thinks she will be able to provide protection you need-"

 _Who the hell is Luke?_ _And-_ "I need?!"

"I know, love, I'm sorry. I keep putting you-"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, that's not what I— you said _we_ have to go and it's only _me_ who needs protection? From a _cop_ no less? _Christ_ , Matt, just one sentence; sum it up. What's going on?'"

"The Hand is in New York."

Her jaw fell open, her head spinning. Holy. Fucking. Shit. Okay, that was the one sentence she needed to hear so she would shut up and do as he had asked.

She packed her things with no other word, feeling Matt's desperate sightless gaze on her as she moved around the apartment. When she passed him for the fourth time, he caught her hand, pulling her into another embrace, this time gentler, comforting.

"I'm so sorry, Vera."

"You should be," she mumbled, kissing the side of his neck, stroking his back when he tensed after her words. "For scaring me shitless. I was worried about you, Matt."

"That sounds like you."

She chuckled humourlessly. "Sue me."

"Nope. I'll rather marry you. If you'll still be willing."

Vera laughed, this time honestly. Still, it was a slightly hysterical sound – it sounded as if he was saying _'if we'll still be alive'_ instead. She couldn't affect that part much, but she could confirm the words he had actually spoken. She took his hand, leading his fingers over her engagement ring. His eyes softened.

"I love you. For better or for worse, Mr. Murdock."

"It feels like the worse keeps following us around."

"Well. Haven't you heard? It's always darkest before the dawn. Let's go. We have catching up to do."

Matt brought her up to speed in the cab, quietly explaining what had happened with Jessica, talked about a fight in some fancy business building alongside with Danny, Jessica and _Luke_ , another fight in a Chinese restaurant alongside with _Stick_ (what the actual f-) and about capturing one member of the Hand, who had threatened them and everyone they loved. Matt said it all in one breath.

"I'll leave you at the precinct while I'll get Karen and Foggy, okay? They'll probably go after _Matt Murdock,_ because he was Jessica's lawyer. I can't take any risks."

Her pulse hammering in her temples fell silent, her heart possibly stopping.

"After Matt Murdock— but you were fighting! How-"

"I had a mask," he reassured her quickly, a tiny comfort. "They probably thought there was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen with them. I'm not sure. I can only hope my identity is safe."

He didn't sound very sure of it. Perfect.

"Jesus— but Jessica knows, doesn't she?"

"Yeah. She probably knew ever since she saved you from Stick. Luke knows too."

"Who is that guy anyway?"

"Claire's boyfriend," Matt stated flatly and Vera's eyebrow shot high enough to touch her hairline.

Holy— Claire was dating a bulletproof guy? Where could Vera get one of those?

"Wow."

"Yeah."

They fell into short silence and Vera snuggled closer to him. She noticed the cabbie was watching them in the mirror as they talked quietly, but she didn't give a shit. She was sure he had had worse customers.

"I know that's probably the last of our concerns right now, but what should I tell at work? My shift starts in… half an hour or so. What should I say Terri?"

"Let the police handle that, I'm pretty sure they'll have to come up with some versatile excuse. About Terri… I'm not sure if we shouldn't take her in as well. I don't know. He talked about Claire, Trish and you specifically. I would feel better if she was provided protection too."

Her stomach clenched at the idea of Terri being in danger as well. _Because of her._ As for herself being in danger… well. Vera rather tried not to think too hard about the fact some Hand member threatened her specifically. _Don't go there_.

"So what? I just ask Terri if she can come down to the Harlem precinct? With Victor?"

"I know it will interfere with their everyday life and they are probably not preferred targets, but it would be for their own safety."

"I'll call her from the precinct."

"That sounds like a good idea."

He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering. Vera closed her eyes, her throat tight.

"What about you?" she pried carefully, the question that had burned her even since she had learnt they were parting again.

"What about me?" he whispered into her hair softly.

"When you get Karen and Foggy to the precinct. What are you gonna do then?"

Matt hesitated before answering. "Meet up with the others. Figure out our next move."

She nodded, her mind racing. What could possibly be the next move? This was the Hand they were talking about. About Matt's creepy ninja master. Matt apparently had super-strong woman with accelerated healing, a guy with a glowing fist and another one bulletproof on his side, but it was a little comfort, because she had no doubt he would catch a bullet for any of them and unlike some of them, Matt was _not_ bulletproof. Though the Hand was a crazy ancient organization; they were using katanas as far as she knew, not bullets. Not that it made them less dangerous.

"Just… be careful, please."

She felt his smile and it honestly scared her he managed to _smile_ right now. "You know I will."

"I know you _won't,"_ she hissed back, shocked by how irritated her voice sounded. But she was worried, okay? Scared shitless, forced herself to speak kinder. _"_ Please. I don't— I don't want to lose you."

His arm tightened around her. "I promise that you won't."

"Don't— don't promise that, okay? Just promise me you'll do everything in your power to make sure I won't."

"Okay. I promise. I love you." The cab slowed down and Vera gulped against the growing lump in her throat. "Go."

Vera stole one long kiss from him, repeating her plea for him staying safe. Somehow she doubted he would listen. Her heart clenched at the thought.

Entering the precinct was, funnily enough, scary. Vera was meeting people who would possibly provide her protection for next couple of days on her way and she was _scared_. It was something like entering a hospital; she knew these people were here to help, but that didn't make the visit pleasant. She was escaping their gazes, wandering, lost. She had no idea where to go. Matt had given her a name though – Detective Knight. Vera was sure not feeling like approaching anyone, let alone a _detective_.

"Can I help you, madam?" young officer with kind and caffeine-gleaming eyes asked her, almost causing her a heart attack.

"Uhm… yes, actually. I'm looking for Detective Knight?" she replied nervously, seeing the guy's – Parker's – eyes grow wide. Uh-huh.

"Alright. Follow me."

He led her through the halls, peeking through the blinds into different offices. He stopped at one, knocking on the open door. Three people raised their heads in their direction; two men sitting behind a desk and one woman looking over their shoulders. And they had a winner.

Detective Knight was a black woman with wild curly hair and I-don't-take-anyone's-shit vibe. Vera gulped as the detective measured them both with her gaze after Parker had addressed her.

"Yes?"

"This lady was looking for you." He awkwardly gestured to Vera, who wished to be anywhere on the planet Earth but here, feeling smaller with each step the woman took in Vera's direction.

"Oh? What can I do for you miss…?"

"Macháčková. Veronika." There was no recognition in the woman's eyes. Great. "Uhm… I'm not really sure how to put this… I believe someone named Luke should have reached out to you…?"

Knight's eyebrow shot up.

"Luke? Luke who?" she questioned, a knowing gleam in her eyes. She knew who Vera was talking about, but apparently she had no idea why this Luke should reach out to her. And wasn't that just perfect?

"Yeah. I have no idea actually-"

"Misty!"

Both women snapped their head in the direction of the newcomer. It was a _huge_ guy. Kinda scary. Everything was scary lately. Surprisingly enough, the detective seemed to relax, shooting Vera a puzzled look.

"Luke," she greeted the man and Vera just let out a silent "oh". So that was Luke. Huge and bulletproof. Vera couldn't believe Matt hadn't told her Luke's last name at least – it would make things much easier.

"Hey. Can I talk to you? I need your help," he pleaded, barely sparing one glance at Vera. Vera didn't mind at all. However, Detective Knight looked at her significantly.

"It wouldn't happen to have something to do with this young lady approaching me?"

This time, Luke examined Vera with curiosity. He had no idea who she was. Obviously. They had never met. He seemed perfectly confused. "Uhm-"

"She just came in. Told me you were going to reach out to me."

For some ridiculous reason, Luke scanned Vera's hands, one corner of his lips rising.

"Who's the lucky guy?" he asked, beckoning to her left hand.

Vera gaped, taken aback by the question, until she realized he possibly didn't know her name, just like she didn't know his, but he had learned she was with Matt.

"Uhm…. Matt… Murdock."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. That guy is _fast_."

Misty opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on in here, but before she could actually speak up, Danny Rand, Claire Temple and an Asian woman, who was fucking bleeding from her abdomen, stumbled in.

"What the hell?" the detective demanded, bewildered. Vera kinda wanted to ask the same question.

Instead, she eyed Claire who greeted her with a simple nod. Vera turned to the detective. "I'm sorry, would you happen to have a first aid kit anywhere?"

Detective Knight seemed to be done with everyone's shit, but shouted at some guy to bring it. Then she took Luke by his huge arm, tugging him aside.

"Luke. Start talking."

"So… this is an interesting first meeting," Vera noted awkwardly, looking up from her position. She mostly trusted herself with doing the stitches right, but since Claire was here and she apparently knew the woman, Vera gladly let her work, listening to her occasional commands when the nurse needed help.

"Yeah, well. Sorry."

"Somehow I doubt that it's your fault. I'm Vera, it's nice to meet you."

The woman tilted her head. "You're Danny's friend. Uhm. Nice to meet you. I'm Colleen."

Vera smiled at her. "And you're Danny's girlfriend."

The fell back into silence, focusing on their work.

"Almost done. Vera, gauze square?" Claire turned to her, inconspicuous smile on her lips as well.

Vera handed it to her and started looking for the adhesive plaster.

"Not how I imagined my day looking," Colleen hummed, her gaze distant. "Maybe this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

There was something in her tone Vera didn't like; something that sounded edgy, fragile. She was about to break. Vera wasn't sure if she wanted to be there for that – she was confident Colleen wouldn't want her either. She handed the nurse the adhesive plaster, planning on disappearing.

Before she could run away though, Claire spoke up. "What do you mean?"

Colleen sniffled and Vera mentally cursed. Colleen pulled her jersey down.

"Hidden here. Away from the action. Left behind." Vera bit her inner cheek, lowering her gaze. This felt familiar. "I don't even know anymore."

"He was wrong back there. About your being weak," Claire offered gently, yet with urgency. Which was exactly what set Colleen off, making her face twist, first tears appearing on her eyes. She sobbed.

Vera was missing something here. She wondered if it looked bad if she left now.

Vera was actually missing more than _something._ She was missing everything – she had no idea what they were talking about, she had no idea who Colleen exactly was. Danny had been mentioning her from time to time, but Vera hadn't been meeting up with him too often. All she knew was that Colleen was his girlfriend and he thought she was totally badass.

"When you're raised in something like that…" Colleen continued and Vera mind raced – raised in what? "…when they've formed the foundation for who you are... breaking away is, like... I feel lost. I can't believe I'm admitting this, but... all I want... is something stable. Something I can hold onto."

Vera gulped as Colleen's voice broke several times. She wondered how many people she knew had a perfectly fucked up childhood, because Danny had been raised by monks in a mystical city, Matt had been– well, Matt, and Colleen… Colleen seemed to bring some serious scars from her early and maybe not so early life as well.

Vera thought she had seen one officer carrying a katana just a moment after Claire, Colleen and Danny with Luke had arrived – she would bet it was Colleen's. She apparently _was_ a badass, a one with a sword. They must have been under attack and she had probably fought off some members of the Hand, ending up with the wound that looked like from another katana or some shit. She was talking about breaking away – was she talking about the Hand? Had she been a part of the Hand before? If the answer was yes, Vera was sure her childhood had been peachy.

Vera wanted to say something about admiring her, but given the fact she really didn't know anything about her and she had just met her…

"Funny you should say that," Claire broke the silence and Vera peeked from under her eyelashes. "Because I know you. I know Danny. I know this fight with the Hand. And where I'm standing... _you_ are the foundation."

Vera looked at Claire, her lips involuntarily forming a smile. Damn, that woman was _good_. Colleen apparently agreed, because she sniffled and found Claire's hand gratefully, before glancing to Vera, apparently ashamed of her breakdown.

Vera had no idea what to do, sorry, embarrassed and silently freaking out. She was no Matt; she wasn't too good with her words.

"Look, I'm— I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by being here and seeing you… whatever. I honestly admit I know shit about you. But I know few things. First: Claire is always right," Vera stated, her abash slightly resolving when both women chuckled. "Secondly: you deal with Danny on daily basis. I adore that guy, seriously, but it takes… a quite specific skill set. Thirdly: Danny thinks you're a badass. You do not take a praise of your fighting skills and strength from the Iron Fist lightly."

The corners of Colleen's mouth quirked. But Vera wasn't finished.

"And fourthly: I am the advertisement of a perfect family background. But I've seen some people who wasn't so lucky, some people whose life was pretty much a shitstorm and mostly I was lucky enough to see them walk off with their heads held high, their past making them stronger. And from what I've heard and seen? You sure as hell are one of them. So… yeah. That— that's about it. Uhm. The work is done, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about, so I'm… I'm gonna go now…"

… _before I say another cheesy line and embarrass myself further._

Vera rose from her chair, pulling off her gloves. Colleen followed her with her gaze.

"Hey, Vera?"

"Hm?" Vera glanced at her, surprised.

"Danny talks highly of both you and Matt. But since we've mentioned the foundation? From what I understood, it's who you are to him. To Matt. Just for you to know."

The feeling spreading in her chest was unfairly warm, just like Colleen's tiny smile.

"Thank you, Colleen. Feel better." With the words, she left the room. It was time to search her backpack and finally call Terri. She was not looking forward to it at all.


	8. The I-know-who-Daredevil-is club

**8.** **The I-know-who-Daredevil-is club**

The conversation with Terri was no fun. Her _What the hell do you mean I need to go to the Harlem precinct?!_ was one of the most memorable sentences Vera had ever heard. Terri complaining about Vera calling her at half past eight on Saturday morning was another one. Vera spent about half an hour explaining her everything she knew and another fifteen minutes trying to convince Terri to come here, because Terri was refusing to believe she was in danger. Vera didn't want to do any of this ever again.

When she entered the common room where the police officers had prepared some drinks for them, she found Trish behind a computer, talking with some tall black guy with afro (which was making him even taller). Vera had bumped into him in the hall earlier while talking to Terri – before she had moved to the bathroom that was, because talking about ninjas when surrounded by cops was not a good idea.

The blond snapped her head to her, smiling widely.

"Hey!" Trish greeted Vera excitedly and Vera sensed a vibe of something she already knew she wouldn't like. Trish jumped from her chair, hugging Vera quickly and Vera just managed to blink and obediently hugged her back. Okay, what the hell.

"Hi. How— how are you? Not well, I guess, considering you have to be here…" Vera mumbled.

"Oh, please. We were just talking with Malcolm about how small the world is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Jessica was… uhm, _picking me up_ from a restaurant – you can imagine with her mannerism – and some guy attacked us."

Vera's eyes went wide. _Jesus shit._ No wonder Matt wanted to get Vera to the precinct as fast as possible; Jessica hadn't done it immediately and Trish had been attacked.

"Are you okay?" Vera blurted out, scanning her blond friend. She looked okay. And _excited_ for some reason.

"Well, _I am._ Because Daredevil saved us. And Jessica has been bickering with him like they were old friends! He's pretty impressive, by the way."

Vera froze, watching Trish with mixture of horror and amusement. Of course Trish was smitten by Matt's fighting skills and she would be actually excited about the vigilante's appearance. And of course Jessica freaking Jones was already best buddies with Matt, Vera could imagine; with Jessica's snarky comments and wry sense of humour, they probably fit together perfectly. Plus, if he saved Trish's ass…

 _But Jesus_ , so he had gone to their apartment to change his outfit too? Running around in it in the light of day? Vera so, so did not like any of this.

"Wow. Good for you. I'm glad he was there." _Mostly._

"Uh-huh. Malcolm? You wouldn't happen to have a chewing gum, would you?"

What?

"Uhm… no. Want one? I need to stretch my legs anyway…" he hurried, an honest smile on his lips.

Trish smiled at him gratefully. "That would be amazing. Thank you!"

"The vending machine is at the end of the hall," Vera offered quietly and Malcolm flashed her a tiny smile as well.

"Can I bring you something?"

Vera blinked in surprise, shaking her head with a quick 'thank you'. The moment he left the room, Trish's gleaming eyes locked up with Vera's.

"Say Matt thank when you see him, would you?"

That sentence knocked the air of Vera's chest. What? WHAT?!

"W-what?" she stuttered, blinking, her mind racing in cosmic speed, trying to come up with a way out of— oh, god, she could breathe again. "Of course. I guess Jessica told you Foggy passed her case to Matt and he sorted it out. Kinda."

Trish turned baffled for a second and Vera almost got another heart attack, because Trish had not actually been talking about the Daredevil save, right? Because Trish did _not_ think Matt was Daredevil. Right? _RIGHT?!_ Because that would-

"Oh. Yeah, sure for that too. But I thought for appearing in the restaurant." Her grin was wolfish and Vera dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from screaming.

WHAT THE HELL?!

"Matt was in that restaurant too?" Vera asked intelligently, her voice sounding like someone was trying to strangle her. And she would know how that felt; this felt pretty similar.

"Vera," Trish hummed, unimpressed, rising her perfect eyebrow. Vera gulped, watching her in panic.

"Trish, I— I have no idea what-"

"Vera."

"I didn't know Matt was in the restaurant too when— when Daredevil appeared, I guess I should thank Daredevil twice then-"

" _Vera._ I'm not gonna tell anyone."

And her expression was so fucking sincere as if she was saying she was Vera's friend and that Vera could trust her, because she had been keeping Vera's secret before and she was keeping Jessica's secret as well, so Vera needed to stop treating Trish as if the radio host was stupid or a bitch.

"How the hell do you know?" Vera asked, resigned, massaging the bridge of her nose tiredly.

Everyone. Fucking _everyone_ knew lately and the term 'secret identity' was kinda losing its meaning.

"Connected the dots a while ago," Trish admitted, unfazed. Vera just opened her mouth and closed it again. _A while ago._ Was it really so easy to figure it out? "But just because I know you. And I know Jessica. You know, she actually did mention that she kicked some ninja's ass in a dirty alleyway."

"Did she now?" Vera murmured, resting her forehead in her palms.

Vera couldn't help feeling that for all Matt apologizing he kept putting her in danger, she was the one who was dangerous. _To him._ People who knew at least a little about her and her… _relation_ to Daredevil, apparently easily figured out his identity. _Doprdele_. How had this never crossed her mind before?

Trish reached for her forearm, probably trying to comfort her; because her words were _not_ so comforting.

"Yeah. She also mentioned it was another ninja's girlfriend she saved, so… anyway. Just… thanks. Don't freak out just because I know. And now tell me – do you think the tremors are connected to this guy attacking us and the architect and everything?"

Vera left her self-pity and self-hate party and stared at the radio host. _Come again?_

Trish thought there were no coincidences in this world. Vera, listening once again about Jessica's case of an architect, who had shot himself in Jessica's apartment after the PI had started digging around his disappearance (and who apparently had assassins after him as well), had to agree. The architect's death had been the reason Jessica had been arrested/held at the police station and that had been where Matt waltzed in, right into the middle of the shit and the rest of the story was pretty hazy, but Vera couldn't really complain about that and neither could Trish – it apparently only involved punching.

So, some architect had gotten himself into some trouble with the Hand. What more though, the Hand was possibly behind the earthquake – what the actual fuck? – because, apparently, the epicentre was in a place where no boundaries of tectonic plates could be and it had happened incidentally around the architect's death.

Since when was the Hand able to cause earthquakes?!

"Vera, hey," Karen greeted her from the door with an unsure smile.

Vera snapped her head from Trish's laptop, raising her hand in a lame wave. Her head was spinning a little. Matt was about to fight people who had caused an earthquake. Jesus _Christ_.

"Hey, Karen."

Trish turned to her as well and Vera introduced them.

"Karen, Trish Walker. Trish-"

"Karen Page," Trish finished, standing up and shaking hands with the shocked reporter. Huh. Trish Walker knew who Karen Page was. Obviously.

"Uhm. Nice to meet you. How-"

"Union Allied corruption. Daredevil articles. You have quite a name," Trish explained quickly and Vera resisted the urge to bang her head against the table. Of course Trish knew all of that. Matt's former colleague, saved by Daredevil, a reporter – there was no wonder why Trish knew about Karen.

"Thanks."

"Ever talked to Daredevil up-close?" Trish pried with a smile and Karen's expression turned even more shocked. She quickly recovered, while Vera just folded her arms on the table, letting her head fall on them, resisting the urge to whine.

"Uhm, not really-"

"Yes," Vera murmured. "The answer is yes, Trish, she knows."

"Cool."

"I'm not sure-"

Vera raised her head, looking at Karen tiredly. "Yes, Karen, she knows who he is too."

Karen gaped at her. "What do you MEAN SHE-" the blond looked around, lowering her voice. "What do you mean she knows too?"

"It's… complicated."

"Compli-" Karen gasped, measuring Vera incredulously. "Did you tell her?!"

Vera was tired, but not too tired for not getting offended at the note. _"I would never do that."_

The worst thing was that Karen was basically _right_. Vera was the biggest clue. Vera was the reason Trish knew. She was also the reason Terri knew, hence Victor knew and Nina knew and Jessica probably figured it out thanks to Vera as well. Something stung in her eyes and a lump grew in her throat.

"I figured it out."

"You might want to keep that down, ladies…" Claire noted from the other side of the table and Vera had honestly forgotten she was there, just like Colleen. Thinking about it, it was Vera's fault Danny and Colleen knew, because Vera was the reason Matt had left to fight alongside Danny.

Wonderful.

Maybe Daredevil should take her down; she was the biggest threat of all.

"I second that," a male voice joined and Vera jumped ten feet above her chair, something in her neck literally snapping as she turned to the voice. He walked to Karen, kissing her cheek as if it could help with his girlfriend's mood.

"Foggy. Hey— I didn't know you were here already," Vera mumbled, blinking away the tears that stubbornly kept attacking her eyes.

"You seemed quite invested in whatever you were doing," he noted with a smile, his face much more amiable than Karen's. "You're okay?"

"I'm not sure that word is in my vocabulary anymore. I would say 'I'm fine', but I almost punched Matt when he said that the last time. But thanks for asking."

Foggy gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry for— it's just- I really hate being here, I had this lead and-" Karen apologized and eyed Vera, her expression almost sincere all of sudden. She smiled at Foggy and pecked his lips before she took a seat at the table too. "I don't like the fact someone else knows."

Protective then. Karen was just being protective, Vera knew that, but…. She sighed.

"I would totally deserve to be shouted at or get punched if I did what you thought I did," Vera offered in a conciliatory matter. "And just for you to know, more and more people knowing? I don't like it either, so welcome to the club."

"You mean the 'I know who you-know-who-I-mean is' club?"

Vera repeated the sentence in her head several times before decoding it. Too much 'know' and 'who' in one sentence. "Yeah. That too."

"But just out of curiosity… how does she know?" Foggy asked and Trish cleared her throat.

"Still here. I'm Trish by the way. You must be Matt's friend."

"Yep. Sorry. I'm Foggy. Nice to meet you."

"Uhm. The story?" Karen reminded them gently.

"There were couple of things…"

"Like her friend saving my life…" Vera admitted, at which Foggy's and Karen's eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" Foggy wondered.

"Please. Like that's an exclusive club at this point," sounded from behind Vera. The person was half annoyed, half amused. "Who hasn't saved her life these days?"

Vera let out a wet chuckle, a desperate sound between a laugh and a sob.

"Hey, Terri."

Trish was nice. Foggy was a nice person as well, Karen, who got past the fact she had to be here and couldn't chase a story, wasn't a bad company, as well as Claire and Colleen. The afro guy – Malcolm – was giving an extremely friendly and pleasant vibe; the moment he came back from the chewing gum hunting, the session of I-know-who-Daredevil-is club subtly ended, people talking in pairs or smaller groups.

The point was, everyone seemed nice, including Victor, who was after a shift in the club and was just pouring himself like a fourth cup of coffee. But having Terri here was… it worked like a charm. She had this aura around herself, magically calming Vera down. At least as much as possible. Even when she was annoyed that she had to be there as well.

"You know, he had fought them for like three months and survived without a scratch," Terri hummed.

"He has more than one _scratch_ from that fighting, Ter," Vera sighed, appreciating her attempts anyway. Terri gave her a pointed look.

"You know what I mean. And now, he has three super-friends and he is literally on his home turf. He's gonna be fine."

Vera wanted to believe it, so badly. But… earthquake. And…

"So why was he so scared, Terri? Because he _was_. When he came to the apartment, he was just so… _Jesus._ "

Terri watched her expectantly as if she was waiting for Vera to figure something out.

"Really, Mechy? You can't think of a reason? Nothing? You need me spell it out for you?"

"What?" Vera asked, not following.

"Okay. When was Matt – or Dick – _ever_ afraid? Scared? Or lost his mind, whatever. That you know of. Go," Terri asked her patiently as if she was speaking to a child. Vera's mind raced.

"When they took him. Before the Avengers came, obviously. He seemed pretty out of his mind then."

"You forgot the moment Collins took you, but you haven't been there to see it, so that's okay. Next."

"When Stick came to town. For the first time I was here anyway, they have apparently met here befo-"

"Next."

"Uhm… now?"

"You forgetting another one; you told me he freaked out when he found out how exactly the Worshippers went down."

"Well, he kinda did."

Terri was still watching her expectantly. And Vera wondered. Stick or the Hand arriving – that was definitely what he was afraid of. When the creepy guy with his minions had taken him, that was understandable too. Not to mention crucifying people, that was still giving her nightmares sometimes. Vera failed to see Terri's point.

She eyes her, clueless. Terri sighed theatrically.

"It you, you thundering dumbass. Every single one of those times – he was scared _for you._ When he loses his shit, it's _because of you."_

Oh. _Oh._

"I can tell that the only thing he's truly afraid of is being the last one standing, being alone. Now, when he thinks you and his friends are safe, he's gonna be okay. He can face the Hand. Alright?" Terri reassured her, Victor appearing by her side. She smiled at him.

"How the hell do you see that when I don't?" Vera wondered.

She _knew_ Matt was protective of people he cared about – that was why he had left with Stick in the first place. How did she not notice the pattern? How did she not realize this was the same? Matt worrying for her and his friends who were as close to him as family? How did she not see that Matt had that much of an abandonment issues?

"Are you kidding me? Matt is enigmatic as shit sometimes, but when it comes to you, I can read him just like anybody else. Better even. He's an open book, terrible poker face, really."

The corners of Vera's mouth quirked. God, she loved Terri. And _fuck_ she had tears in her eyes again and this time, she let them escape, wiping them only when they rolled down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Terri. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Whatever, Mechy," Terri hummed, waving it off. Her poker face was terrible too; she was touched as well.

"Alright, listen up, everybody," Detective Knight called out, entering the room. "I know you don't wanna be here, but it seems that you are all of interest to some pretty powerful and dangerous people. Now, to protect you, I need your cooperation. Sit tight for now. We'll have more answers soon… _hopefully."_

Vera sighed. Yeah, hopefully. She would also appreciate some good news. But when she checked her phone, there was no message.

"Colleen Wing?" Knight approached the woman, who immediately stood up.

"Yeah. Yeah."

"I'm told my uniforms confiscated something unusual from you," she dropped her voice, sounding curious and bewildered. The katana, Vera remembered. Uh-huh.

Colleen was abashed. "It's a katana. It was passed down..."

"It's _weird."_

"Okay. Uh... Look, I don't need to be here. I can defend myself."

The detective seemed doubtful. "You came in here pretty bloody. Are you sure about that?"

Colleen sighed, lowering her gaze, inconspicuously looking in Claire's direction before a tiny smile appeared on her lips. Vera was sure she was thinking about their previous conversation. About Colleen not being weak, but being the foundation.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"What can you tell me about these people that you're fighting?"

Well, Detective Knight quickly caught up, including Colleen to the exclusive club of the Hand's dangerous enemies.

"Nothing. The more I tell you, the more danger I put you in."

"I'm getting pretty sick of people telling me that," the detective complained, slightly irritated. Yeah, Vera could relate.

"It's true. Why else would we be here?" Claire supported Colleen and Vera just nodded for herself.

No matter how much Vera understood Knight's frustration – well, part of it anyway – she agreed with Claire. This was some serious shit. And every single person who was even distantly involved was now under protection because of it.

"I'm here 'cause I'm a cop," Knight deadpanned, unimpressed.

Colleen scoffed. "Trust me, they don't give a shit."

Knight sighed, looking around the room. Vera lowered her gaze when the detective met her eyes. She had no idea if she would be as confident as Colleen or Claire it the detective asked her. The only cop she had to deal with apart from Collins was Brett and he was much friendlier than Knight; and also willing to accept the shit she was feeding him with for some reason (and Vera was confident it wasn't because he was stupid).

The detective beckoned to the door and another cop – Vera remembered him, Parker, the one who had brought Vera to the detective – handed Colleen the katana.

"Just in case," Detective Knight noted.

Okay, maybe she wasn't that bad. It wasn't like she turned Luke down when he had come, asking for her help. It didn't changed the fact she was scaring Vera – perhaps it was something in her eyes, the intense gaze she was watching the world around her with; scanning it to a tiny detail, seeing right through everything.

That was what scared her, Vera realized. Vera was afraid that if it came to Detective Knight talking to her, Vera would handle two minutes of lying and half-truths before losing. Vera hated the idea of being the clue to Daredevil identity, from now to forever. However, it was one thing that so many people knew about Matt; a _detective_ knowing the truth… well, _shit_.

"Thanks," Colleen breathed, smiling disbelievingly. Claire patted her shoulder. A tiny smile flashed Knight's face as she was leaving.

Getting her katana back, Colleen looked much calmer. Vera wished she felt the same.

Though it was sure nice to have someone who could handle a katana on their side for once.


	9. Not a team

**9\. Not a team**

They were standing nearby a corpse. A _headless_ corpse. Four of five people were still taking the fact in, pretty reluctant to do so. A dead man. _Decapitated._

 _Christ_.

"You okay?" Luke asked Jessica softly, his gaze flickering to the body once again. His stomach rolled over at the sight and he quickly looked away.

"Yeah, I mean... my head's still attached," Jessica replied wryly, sighing.

"You didn't have to kill him," Matt stated, somewhere between disappointed, angry and resigned.

"Eh, it was him or the kid."

"They could've stopped him," Danny protested, turning to Stick as well. It hadn't felt good to have a blade on his throat, but Sowande had been one of the fingers of the Hand, he had had information they needed and… _killing._

"Couldn't take the chance, especially now."

Luke looked at Stick, bewildered. "What do you mean, 'especially now'?"

"We got our answer. He's what they've been after all along."

"Yeah, well, we knew that."

Stick scoffed at the big kid's stupidity. "We didn't know the Iron Fist was the key to what the Hand seeks. The word isn't accidental."

"You think he's a key? To what, their survival?" Matt wondered, not following either. Stick just mentally sighed. _They're all idiots._

"A key implies a lock."

"I assumed it was a metaphor," Jessica noted in her done-with-this-shit tone.

"It's not."

"So you literally think Danny opens something?" Luke asked, surprised.

Stick gestured to the corpse on the floor to anyone's delight. "And that 'something' is worth dying for."

"I'm a weapon. I'm not a key," Danny protested, squirming uncomfortably.

"That you know of."

"What could I possibly open?"

"You tell me. Must be why they haven't killed you," Stick scoffed.

"They haven't killed me because they want me on their side."

"The Iron Fist's chi is a weapon. That's true," Stick confirmed, nodding, looking almost wise. "But I've heard stories about it being used for more. To seal things shut. Or opening them again."

"So the Hand is in New York because he gives them access or opens something up?" Luke asked in disbelief. They had officially stepped into Crazy Town.

Danny raised his hands in a defensive gesture, chuckling. "Come on, guys. That's insane."

Matt's sad gaze was aimed at his general direction, corners on his mouth down. "Well, it doesn't matter if you think it's true or not. It's something they believe is true."

"He was a member of the Hand. An organization formed by lying psychopaths. You can't trust a word he said."

"I understand that, Danny, but the way I see it, we only have one move."

Danny took a step back, not quite realizing he was shortening the distance between himself and the person who would be most willing to kill him if necessary. Which now seemed like an option, apparently, but that was crazy, they wouldn't right? Matt wouldn't let them and neither Luke nor Jessica seemed to be fans of killing.

"Whoa. What do you mean?"

"To keep the Iron Fist as far from them as possible," Stick explained, his tone adding ' _at all costs'._

Luke nodded. "It sounds crazy, but I don't think we have any other way."

"I dedicated my life to this fight! You need me! We all need each other." He eyed each of them, including Stick and Matt – though he was sure it had no effect on them. But he was getting desperate. "This is exactly how they work. They divide us. They get into our heads. They weaken us. They make you question the people you trust."

"Danny, just take a deep breath and calm down…"

"Stop telling me to calm down, Luke! This is what they want! They want you to be distracted. They want you to turn on me!"

Matt took a step closer to him, face calm, soft. "Sowande wasn't lying."

"And how do you know? Because of his heartbeat? It's the Hand. You know how they can operate," Danny objected, hoping to find an understanding with Matt. Matt had fought the Hand. He _knew_ them. They had fought them _together_ before.

"And now we know what they need. It's you, kid."

"Stick, you're falling for their trap!" he snapped at the old man before turning back to Matt. "And really, Matt? Listening to him now? After what he had done-"

The relatively soft expression disappeared from Matt's face, a subtle warning not to go where Danny was going with that note. "Don't."

"If Alexandra gets a hold of you, the war's lost. I can't allow that," Stick exclaimed, raising his katana meaningfully.

"Listen, Stick, maybe we should just... uh, let him lay low, or just... Maybe we should just hide him."

Luke did not like where this was heading. At all. A man had already died today, they didn't need another. Plus, Danny was not even a bad guy. Just a little stubborn.

"We're running out of time! They're hunting our friends, our families, and they're not gonna stop there. You heard what he said. This ends with New York in ruins. They want me on the side-lines 'cause I'm the only one who can destroy them. …Jess?"

The only woman in the group eyed the kid. Between all of them, he really was a kid, she thought; eager and riot, not seeing he was wrong. Jessica might not like it, but the others were right. She wanted to have shit to do with all this, she would be happy to be the one not involving, but she could understand that what they were proposing was the best solution.

"How do you suggest we hide him?"

"Fine! I'll go back to doing this without you if I have to. I've already lost one city. I'm not losing another," Danny spit out, walking away. Matt stepped in his way.

"Me neither."

Danny looked at him, betrayed. Of all people, he had expected Matt to be on his side. Or at least not being against him. "Really? You're gonna try and keep me here against my will?

"I hear what you're saying, Danny, but... no one loves this city more than I do and that's why you can't leave this room. Trust me, I'm not doing this because I trust him – but because it's the only thing we can do."

"Whatever," Danny hummed, pushing past his friend's (former friend?) figure. Matt moved as well. "You sure you want to do this?"

"No, I don't _want_ to, Danny, I really don't. But if I have to…"

"Same way you _had to_ keep your ex-girlfriend secret?" Danny snapped back, knowing he hit a spot.

Matt grimaced. He had made a mistake when keeping the fact he and Elektra had met before. But it all seemed to be cleared out now; while they hadn't been very happy about him keeping it secret and endangering them because of his attempts to reason with Elektra, they had accepted the explanation, aware they had more pressing issues. _Danny_. And well, there was the thing that the whole Hand was after them.

"We're past that."

"No, we're not," Danny disagreed, feeling he got on the right track. The best defence right now was an attack. Matt would match him in a fist fight. He had to aim lower. "Speaking of girlfriends – do you really want to see Vera impaled on a katana again? By the Hand for a change?"

"Don't. Don't bring her into this," Matt warned him, his stance changing. And with each word, his expression was shifting as well.

"Why not? Sometimes it's like she's the only thing that makes you see clearly. If you bench me, that's what's gonna happen; the city will die and she'll die with it. They'll probably enjoy killing her personally. And you're just gonna stand there and watch it happen, just like the last time."

Matt looked like he had just got punched to his solar plexus; by the Iron Fist's fist; and his true emotions were boiling inside, ready to blow up.

"Danny, stop it," Luke stepped in, sensing the air in the room getting thicker and thicker. "We're all on the same side here. We all want the same thing."

"It doesn't feel like it. Not anymore."

Jessica picked up on the atmosphere getting into a dangerous zone as well. Taking a step closer to Danny was a reflex. "Don't do this."

"Hey, you guys seriously need to back off."

"It's okay," Matt soothed him, even when his face was nothing but wounded. He placed a hesitant hand on the Iron's Fist shoulder. "I know you didn't mean it and I know you hate this. But we can't let them have you. You just stay here. We can keep you safe, all right? You just need to calm down."

"Like you kept Vera safe? I don't think so." Matt's hand fell off as if he got burned. "And then there's another thing, Matt. I'm all out of calm."

Later, three of five people wondered if Matt had let Danny punch him, because for some fucked up reason, he had believed he had deserved it.

Their fight was a quick exchange of fist and sole and knees meetings. It almost looked like a dance; they were coordinated. Too coordinated. Matt and Danny knew each other too well; they fought alongside each other, they trained together sometimes. They could predict the other one's moves too easily and Danny was the first one to be tired of their game, mostly because Matt picked up on Danny's tactics better, earning himself an upper hand.

"Don't make me use this," Danny grunted, lighting up his fist. Matt might not see the light, but he could feel the energy crackling in the air. He continued the fight anyway and Danny wasn't reluctant to use all he had.

They all ended up on the floor due to the shock wave cause by Danny's fist, their ears ringing, blurry vision and feeling like having one of the worst hangovers of their lives.

Except… Jessica was used to being hangover. She was the one who ended the fight; Rand wasn't the only one with extraordinary strength.

"Sorry about this."

Matt was honestly glad they had no time to muse on their actions; the last thing Matt had even seen himself doing was helping Stick to tie Danny down. Every time Matt had thought the world couldn't get more insane, something else had happened, convincing him of the opposite. They had lost a valuable source of information, they had imprisoned their own and on top of that, they were practically back to square one.

"We need to figure out what he's… the key to," Jessica mumbled, not fond of the theory they had. Really? An ancient force, inherited generation after generation… that had been enough. Now there was a key too?

"Their headquarters is Midland Circle," Stick announced as if it was some kind of a ground-breaking information.

"Yeah, we knew that," Luke noted, unimpressed.

"Clock is ticking."

"So if we need more answers, going back to Midland Circle is the only play."

Jessica looked at Luke, questioning his sanity. "We barely made it out last time and they're gonna be waiting for us."

"Yeah, she's right," Matt supported her unnecessarily.

"So how do we find whatever he opens?"

"The architect?" Jessica offered, throwing her hands in the air, _whatever_. It wasn't like they had too many options. "My client's husband. The one his ex-girlfriend tried to kill. He designed the place."

"What, you think he knew how Danny ties into this?"

"It's worth a shot," she hummed in Matt's direction, silently encouraging him to come up with a better idea. He didn't have any. Yeah, that was what she had thought.

"Well, I guess you two better get going," Luke stated, his gaze flickering between Jessica and Matt.

Jessica sighed while Matt just seemed puzzled. "What about you?"

"Somebody's gotta stay and watch him."

It didn't take a genius to figure out which one of them was the right candidate. Matt's presence would hardly help, since his betrayal was the wickedest in Danny's eyes. And Jessica's attitude to this whole mysterious world including the Iron Fist wouldn't be the best choice either.

"Preferably somebody who can take a punch," Luke explained further and neither Jessica nor Matt could argue with that.

They stopped at Matt's – and _Vera's_ – apartment on their way; after all, Matt needed a change of clothes. He took the rooftop route, surprised Jessica joined him and didn't use sidewalks like normal people would.

She paced through the apartment, not so inconspicuously looking around.

"So you wanna tell me how a pro bono lawyer can afford a loft like this in New York City? I imagine a barista's pay isn't helping much."

A smile appeared on Matt's lips for a fraction of second. No matter how crazy the past few hours had been, there had been lighter moments too; Vera was safe now. Sparing a little time remembering that and remembering _her_ was a welcomed distraction. He appreciated Jessica's attempt on conversation – and clearly, she knew which topic to pick.

"It does help," he protested, tightening his tie. "But I could have afforded it before; you can't tell now, but there's a neon billboard across the street. Keeps most people up at night... not me."

"Got it."

"Plus, I occasionally help the landlord out. Not proud of it, but I put on the suit and rough up people late on rent."

Jessica shot him a dubious look he couldn't see. She would think the lawyer was joking, _but…_ "I hope that's a joke."

She cursed mentally when she called his chuckle that followed 'cute' in her mind. Jeez, he was not _cute._ But goddamn, even with the ridiculous costume of his in his hands, he looked like a happy puppy; he had lighted up at the mention of his fiancée. Jessica felt a tiny stung of jealousy.

"And she doesn't mind?"

"Which part?"

Jessica beckoned to the billboard. If she was asking something else, they might get too deep into feelings, which, _no, thanks._

"She handles. I think waiting for me is worse for her sleeping habits," Matt added, grimacing.

"Huh. I told her _not_ to get all house-wife just because you put a ring on her finger. "

"Really? Is that how you phrased it?"

"More or less," the PI exclaimed with a smirk, pretty sure she had used the word 'fuck' at least once when delivering the advice to her.

"It's… it's not like that. She has a life. When she's… when she's not forced to stay on a precinct because of some senseless war."

Jessica raised her hands in a defensive gesture. TMI. And TMF. Too much information and too many feelings. Stop it right there.

"Dude. It's none of my business. For all I care she _can_ be a house-wife. I'm just saying that I wouldn't do that. And that you better appreciate what she's doing."

"I do. Believe me, _I do."_

"You ready?" she hummed as he closed the trunk. Matt put his glasses on, a different kind of mask he was using. Jessica almost winced at the change; the openness of his face without the glasses was in a stark contrast to this. It was probably a good thing he wore those.

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

Matt found blueprints of Midland Circle in a piano. He couldn't quite believe that statement, but then again, he had troubles believing anything these days. Today was just getting more surreal with each minute.

Just before approaching the piano, Jessica Jones had used Matt's father as a parallel to the story of the architect when trying to approach Lexi – the architect's daughter – in attempt to make her talk more.

Matt had honestly no idea if he was more shocked at the fact Jessica had done some background checking, had told the story in front of Lexi as if he hadn't been sitting right next to them or at the way she had spoken; surprisingly soft and empathic, while never quite leaving her _whatever_ attitude.

But, the point was, they had found a clue. There was a hole under Midland Circle. Like forty stories deep hole and there was something huge at the bottom.

They were on the way to tell the others, when he finally gathered enough courage to ask, lump in his throat. It had touched him more than he was comfortable admitting.

"Jessica? How'd you know?"

"About what?" she hummed, pretending she didn't know what he was talking about.

Matt didn't know who she was trying to fool. He sighed. "About my dad."

"A crime-fighting blind lawyer; I figured there's gotta be a good story there."

"Or a shitty one," he offered, grateful for her not making a big deal of it, despite no doubt knowing how much it had affected him she had talked about that; that she knew in the first place and that she had made the opinion she had about it.

"You took my case, I took yours," she replied, shrugging. "I just think we'll work better together if we trust each other. Don't you?"

"Yeah, sure." Matt suppressed a wide smile. Jessica Jones was being nice to him; would the wonders ever cease? For once, Matt was surprised _pleasantly._ "How did I earn you being nice to me all day?"

Matt regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth, expecting a defensive answer. But Jessica Jones lived to surprise.

"Look… Rand was wrong, saying what he did. If he reminded me that someone I cared about almost died on my watch, I would be the one throwing the first punch. He knows you, knows how to push your buttons. It wasn't fair. I figured you could use something less backstabbing. Don't get used to it."

He winced at the mention of the fight, before a warm feeling spread in his chest at the gesture. She wasn't lying.

' _Thank you,'_ he wanted to whisper, letting the amount of gratitude he felt soak through the words. But this was a special kind of person he was having a conversation with. She needed a special treatment.

"Too late for that. Jessica Jones is labelled 'nice' now," he said instead, cheery, implying he had a blackmail material on her now.

"Hell no," she cursed, disgusted less than she should have been if she wanted to keep her reputation.

"That's not a bad thing."

"It is. Occasionally giving a shit is bad enough. I am not _nice_ , Murdock."

"Says you."

"Christ…" she murmured, shoving her hands further to the pockets of her leather jacket. "Do not send me a wedding invitation," she warned him.

The corners of his lips twitched deliberately. "I won't."

"Good."

"You're gonna be Trish's plus one anyway."

Matt thought the PI resisted the urge to shove his shoulder, but he was sure she rolled her eyes at him at least.

He wouldn't admit it out loud and he was confident she wouldn't either, but… they made a good team. He was _not_ about to say that, ever, he didn't long for being punched to his face by no one else but Jessica Jones herself. Still, it was the truth. He allowed himself to be a little bit optimistic.

Of course, that was a mistake.

The last thing he remembered before he blacked out – after lounging at Elektra who had impaled Stick – was the woman he had once loved saying his name.

"Matthew. It's good to see you."


	10. The beginning of an end

**10\. The beginning of an end**

Vera might have been scared shitless, but she was only human. When she was not talking to Terri or anyone else, she was… dozing off. Enough to force herself to put away her contacts and wear her glasses instead, because her eyes burned. She was losing track of time; she might have her watch, but that wasn't the point. She wasn't even sure if it was a.m. or p.m. Christ. She hoped Matt was more aware of his surroundings, though she doubted he caught even an hour of sleep between all the shit.

Vera was just returning from the bathroom, teeth brushed and contacts on again, because she needed to feel like a human being at least, when they stumbled in.

And by 'them', she meant the officers. And by 'stumbled', she meant dragging three unconscious people in. Vera stared in horror at the limp body of Jessica Jones, Luke Cage and— and Matt as well. Her heart stopped. He wasn't- he wasn't-

Vera didn't even realize she followed the cops on autopilot as they carried Matt's bo- _Matt_ to some office. He was just unconscious, right? There was some blood on his shirt, but-

"And take his shirt for blood samples," Detective Knight ordered to the couple of cops, who dropped him on a couch with a huff.

The 'thud' snapped Vera from her trance. Matt was just unconscious. And they were about to strip him.

"I'll do it," Vera offered, surprised how quickly she thought of what could it mean if someone else would do it. One point for her. Sadly, she had lots of 'minus' points.

One of the cops looked at her, sceptical. "Yeah, you won't. He's heavy as fuck."

"It might be difficult," the other explained, before she could protest. Unlike his colleague, he was almost unnaturally polite. It stopped her from snapping. These two needed two different strategies to be convinced, dammit. "He's unconscious, these people feel even heavier."

The first cop, cop A, just smiled at her victoriously.

Vera cleared her throat. "Uhm. Just…" She showed them her left her shamelessly. "He had fallen asleep with his arm over me before, so I know exactly how heavy it is. I'm pretty sure I can imagine the rest." She turned to the cop A. "Actually I don't have to. He had… uhm, his body went limp over me before if you know what I mean."

Cop A aka the smug smile guy scoffed, measuring her with his gaze from head to toe. She supressed a shiver.

Cop B aka the polite guy cleared his throat. "Right."

"Doesn't change a thing. You won't handle him. Not alone."

 _I'll show you what I can or cannot handle, you arrogant prick._

She sighed, mentally counting to ten. That guy was impossible.

"I won't have to." She turned rather to the cop B. "Could you please send Foggy Nelson here? It's okay, he was his roommate in college and is his best friend…" She couldn't resist squinting at cop A as he sighed dramatically. "…So he'll hardly see something he hasn't before."

"Of course. We need to bring you a bag and some clothes for him anyway."

Vera smiled at cop B – Drake, she needed to remember that – with relief.

"Could you bring a first aid kit as well, please? Just in case. I have some training, I'll check him up. Thank you."

Another annoyed sigh from the cop A as they were leaving. Vera would swear she heard him mumble "crazy bitch" on his way, but she wasn't sure.

"Love you too…"

The moment they were gone, she was at Matt's side. She wouldn't start examining him just yet, but she needed to make sure he was still breathing at least. She attentively watched his chest and abdomen, her palm hovering above his nose and mouth.

Ten seconds, come on. 1, 2…. Breath, thank god. 5, 6, 7… .Another breath. 10. Good, that was good. She didn't even have to tilt his head back to clear the airways, which was even better; she had no fucking idea what had happened to him, she really did _not_ want to hurt him further; though given the way the officers dragged him in, they had been hardly worrying about a spine injury, so there was thick chance she couldn't make anything _worse_.

Foggy stumbled to the room. "Hey! What the hell happened?!"

Vera just sighed and shrugged, pulling out two pairs of gloves from the kit he had brought, asking him for help.

To be fair, cop A had a point; Matt was freaking heavy. Vera knew that, he was all muscle and he _had_ gone limp over her before (it happened sometimes, when he was tired, but they couldn't keep their hands off each other anyway and once he came, his body just went absolutely _limp_ for few moments before he bothered to let her breathe). But she had never had to strip his shirt in that state.

In the end, they managed; Foggy was a great help and it made Vera wondered if he had ever had to deal with drunk-limp Matt like this.

Foggy was watching her and sometimes helped her to manipulate Matt's body as she tried to _somehow_ examine him, feeling for bumps and other deformities, checking for any bleeding, carefully palpating for any serious inner bleeding as well. He had one bump on the back of his head and some bruises that would blossom very colourfully, she was sure, but for Matt, he was practically fine. Though the head bothered her.

Once again with Foggy's assistance, she managed to pull a NYPD t-shirt on Matt's torso. When done, she sighed heavily, collapsing on a chair she had dragged to Matt's improvised bed.

"Thank you, Foggy. I couldn't have done this alone and… I didn't want them to… to see the scars," she explained sheepishly.

Foggy gave her a tiny smile. "Of course, good call. And he's my friend, you know."

"I know. But still. Thanks."

"No problem. What did you tell the cops anyway? The guy who gave me the stuff was… uhm-"

"Calling me a crazy bitch?" Vera supplied helpfully, causing Foggy to grimace.

"Yeah, something like that."

"I was trying to be… convincing. Persistent. He probably thinks I'm crazy, stubborn and extremely possessive of Matt's body or something, don't want anyone to see him, which technically _isn't wrong_ , I really don't. Just for a different reason than he had probably imagined. So… yeah."

"Uh-huh. Building yourself a reputation."

"Well, I can live with that. If I let anyone else discover his identity on the other hand…"

She gulped, watching Matt's peaceful expression. He looked like he was just sleeping, while in reality, someone had knocked him and two super-powered people unconscious, somehow had got blood on his shirt and possibly had taken Danny, because there was no way he would have just left them there like this. Vera had no idea where Stick fit in the scenario, but she didn't care too much about that. This was enough of a mess as it was.

"You know it's not your fault, right?" Foggy asked and she slowly turned her head to him, meeting his serious eyes.

Vera thought she knew what was he was talking about and she did not agree. She escaped his gaze, taking off the gloves and hiding Matt's hand in hers. She played dumb.

"What isn't?"

"Some people knowing about him," he answered with a sigh, seeing through her lame act easily.

Vera squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. With Matt unconscious, she had backburner the problem, but it was still present. It still stung.

"Really?" she looked at Foggy briefly before returning her gaze to Matt. "Because it kinda feels like it is."

"Well, that's bullshit."

"Is it? Trish figured it out together with _my_ involvement in the Worshippers shit. Jessica because she saw _me and Daredevil_ interact after Stick attacked _me_ and she knows I'm engaged to Matt. My landlady, Terri and Victor know – surprise, surprise – because of what happened at _my_ apartment with Stick. Danny, who told Colleen, knows because Matt left to fight alongside him, to protect _me_ , which was also the biggest clue for Karen. Hell, the Avengers know because _I_ have involved them. How is all of this not my fault?"

Foggy observed her for few seconds as she was quickly wiping away the tears from her cheeks, before he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, looking like he was concentrating really hard.

"Still bullshit. Jeeez, you're self-important."

"I— I'm sorry, what?" Vera stuttered, incredulous.

"The world does not revolve around you, Vera. Not talking about Matt's, that's another story. None of that was your fault. Sometimes it's hard to believe that, but Matt's an adult, so he's making his own choices. And he chose to be with you. That meant putting you in danger-"

"Yeah, I bet no one told him how dangerous I will be to him and his _secret_ identity."

"That's— shut up. What I'm trying to say is that _he_ chose to be with you. I'm pretty sure he knew the risks, but that- that doesn't mean you're putting him at risk. Okay? Everything you mentioned – Matt leaving, Matt saving you, protecting you – it was his choice. It _is_ his choice. He loves you so he cares for you, looking after you; it's really not on you that you needed to be saved from his crazy ninja master. The moment Matt decided to make a move on you-" Foggy kept explaining and Vera froze.

"So you think this is _his fault?!"_ she cried out, covering her mouth, shocked how loud she was. She wasn't _too_ loud, but still. _What the hell, Foggy?!_

"Heck, no. Though he would probably think so, jeez, I never realized how similar you are in some ways. It's anybody's fault. It just happened. When you asked the Avengers to help you, you saved his life and he actually told me you were trying to protect his identity while you were bleeding out, so that argument is lost here. As for the rest, neither of you asked Stick to hurt you, neither of you asked the crazy kids to… crucify people in his name. You couldn't have prevented Jessica, Trish or even Terri getting involved. Everyone makes choices on their own and you can't be responsible for everyone, like it or not. Things happen."

Vera gulped, raising her eyes to him. "Well, things suck."

Foggy chuckled at that, sounding as if he wasn't sure himself if the sound he made was meant to be amused or not.

"Yeah, well. Not wrong here. But it's not your fault. One event leads to another. You're not… you're not doing any harm to Matt's life or whatever shit you're thinking right now." Foggy took her free hand, squeezing it lightly. "In fact, if you ask me, he's one lucky bastard to have you, okay? I might like the way he's beating his way through his life, I might not, but I'm sure as hell happy for him to have a kickass girlfriend – fiancée – by his side."

Vera pressed her lips together, the sobs he was trying to hold inside breaking through anyway. "Dammit, Foggy."

Matt's best friend smiled at her warmly. "You're gonna be okay with him here? I'll go check if I can find out what happened, okay?"

Vera gave his hand a squeeze, attempting a smile as well. "Yeah, go. Good idea. Thanks for the help again. And… the rest too."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Machackova. Just… if he wakes up before I come back, don't tell him it was me who made you cry, okay?"

Vera chuckled through her tears, gesturing with her hand to chase him away. "Go use your smart mouth and undeniable charm somewhere else, Nelson."

"Oh, you think I'm charming?" he called out from the door. "You shouldn't tell him that either…"

"Foggy!"

She shook her head in disbelief as the door clicked behind him.

"You have the weirdest friends, Murdock." She brushed Matt's hair of his forehead and placed a light kiss there. "I see why you like them."

It literally came out of nowhere. One moment she was almost dozing off despite her determination to watch Matt attentively, checking his breathing and changes in his pulse (Foggy had apparently changed his plan, because he had _not_ come back for hours and Vera was not about to leave Matt to find him), and the next… she had her face on the floor, her arm twisted behind her back, solid weight keeping her down. Vera was fully awake in a fraction of a second, completely shocked, her heart stopping before her pulse skyrocketed. Because what the actual fuck?

"Matt?" she choked out or mumbled, whined or _something_ , out of breath and with her cheek pressed against the cold tiles.

His weight disappeared with a gasp, the force twisting her arm painfully and making her eyes water gone at instant. She used her other hand to return the cruelly sore arm into more comfortable position, focusing on not whimpering as her muscles and tendons protested with the movement. She rolled over only to see Matt panting, watching her in horror, supporting himself onto a table by the wall.

"You're up," she noted brilliantly, sounding less cheerful than she attempted. Bending her knees, she sat up slowly.

Matt gulped, his face paler than when he had been lying unconscious on the couch, every last drop of blood drained from his face.

"I'm so sorry."

Vera tried her best to ignore the pain in her shoulder and arm ( _and_ elbow and wrist), climbing up to stand up as well. "It's okay."

It was not okay. It hurt like a bitch. _Jesus_. What _exactly_ had happened to leave him in a killer mode?

Matt shook his head, not looking like he was any calmer. "I'm _so_ sorry, Vera. I would nev-"

"Never hurt me on purpose? I know," she breathed, carefully touching his forearm. He frowned miserably, but visibly tried to slow down his furious breathing. "Sit down, Matt. Come on. You look like you're barely standing." _Despite of the ninja shit you just pulled out._

He let her tug him lightly in the direction of the couch, obediently sitting down, his face still twisted in misery.

"Harlem precinct?" he whispered, unsure.

Vera nodded, straightening the chair she had been sitting on before and Matt had managed to knock over when taking Vera down. She gritted her teeth when she used her left hand – yep, that would be sore for a while.

Matt looked like stakes were being thrust under his fingernails, drawing a sharp breath in. Vera cut him off before he could apologize again, sitting down on the chair.

"Matt, I'm okay, forget it. It's you I'm worried about. How do you feel?" She only met silence. "Poor choice of words. I'm no Claire, but I did check what I could. I think nothing is broken. What do you think?"

"Nothing's broken," he reassured her quietly. That was a win.

"I found no external bleeding. Agree?"

"Yeah, no bleeding."

"A bruise is forming on your abdomen, I bet your ribs are in agony. Pain level?"

He tilted his head, still frowning. "I'm fine, Vera."

" _Goddammit, Matt."_ _Don't use that sentence and don't bullshit me!_ "Please?"

She hated she couldn't take care of him properly. He must have been through hell and she knew literally nothing. He probably received a blow to his head big enough to knock him out and there was a bruise in the middle of his torso looking so terrible that Vera wondered if he had met with Luke Cage's sole. She worried about internal bleeding as well, but that was something she just couldn't tell just by observing him the way she had.

"Just… humour me, Matt."

"I—" He seemed abashed. "Three?"

"Jesus. That's a lot," she breathed, horrified.

"It's a ten level scale. Three isn't much," he noted, confused.

"Yeah, sure. But your 'three' is… like my six or something. If you said four or five, I would probably ask for morphine. Okay. Head? I found quite a bump on the back of your head, which is probably what caused the unconsciousness."

"Probably."

"So? I would ask about vision, given the localization of the injury, but… well. What about other things? Intense pain?"

"No."

"Nausea? Vertigo?"

"Neither. I'm-"

"Hearing problems? Anything unusual about your senses?"

"No-"

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked eventually, half curious about what had happened, half about him remembering it, because not remembering getting a head injury when there obviously had been one, that was a no-no.

Matt gulped, looking almost panicked. "Yeah, I do."

Vera just managed to stare at him as he told her about finding out that Hand had a plan with Danny Rand – that they didn't know any details about – and about the idea of hiding him, which had been something Danny had protested against. She had no words when Matt hold her they had knocked Danny unconscious and while Luke and Stick had kept an eye on him, Matt and Jessica had gone to the architect's house, had talked to his daughter and had found blueprints of a building in a piano – yes, Vera kept her mouth shut even at that weird note.

The real shock came when Matt told her about the latest events.

"Stick is dead?" she breathed, absolutely stunned.

Her first thought was almost relief – that guy was a jackass, a _dangerous_ jackass, who had tried to kill her. She would not miss him at all. The second thing that hit her was _fear_ – someone had killed Stick. _Stick_. From what she understood, Matt's ninja master was an unofficial leader of their little group of vigilantes and he was a great support when it came to fighting. The third thing was even more intense fear, because _Jesus shit_ , someone had killed a guy who had seemed to be unkillable; whoever the person who had killed him was, they were… even more dangerous than Stick. And they fought against Matt and company, great. Fourth, while Vera hated the guy, he had once helped Matt when he had needed him and it was the kind of help that affected the majority of Matt's life if not all of it.

Vera had no fucking idea how to feel about that man dying. And if she was being honest, Matt looked like he wasn't sure either.

"Yeah," he rasped. "And they took Danny."

Vera gulped. "Yeah, I figured as much. _Christ."_

"I need to go," Matt exclaimed, supporting himself onto the couch to stand up and at the very same moment, the door to the office they were in opened.

"You are not going anywhere, buddy." Foggy was holding two cups of coffee in his hands, watching Matt incredulously. And a little relieved. "Good to see you awake, by the way. The coffee was meant for Vera, but if you want…"

"Thanks. But I need to go."

Foggy shook his head, equally stubborn. "No, you don't. You look like shit."

"Agreed."

Matt sighed, reaching for his jacket Foggy and Vera had tossed over a chair earlier. "Foggy, they took Danny Rand."

"Shit."

"Which means the Hand has the Iron Fist and Stick is dead and Elektra is dead and alive at the same time and— and I really don't have time for-"

Foggy's bewildered "Elektra?" was spoken simultaneously with Vera's equally confused "Who's Elektra?"

Matt froze, paling. Vera hadn't thought it was possible for him to get any paler.

Who the hell was Elektra and how did Foggy sound as if he knew who Matt was talking about? Why Matt hadn't mentioned her when telling Vera about what had happened?

"Yeah. The Hand, they… I don't know. They did something to her, I can't hear her heartbeat, she's the one who killed Stick and-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. We're talking about Elektra? College era Elektra? The-one-who-almost-made-you-fail-law-school Elektra?" Foggy babbled.

' _The-one-who-almost-made-you-fail-law-school Elektra?'_

Vera blinked, her heart speeding up. Whoa, wait. _Elektra_ was Matt's-

"Dude. How badly did you hit your head? You know I've never approved of her, because she was making you a reckless little shit and you were just not yourself when with her, but what you're saying is insane."

 _-girlfriend,_ Vera finished mentally.

Okay.

What?

"Foggy, look, I— I don't know. It's her and- and Stick trained her to fight the Hand and now she's with them and she almost killed the architect who killed himself and-"

Foggy just stared at Matt, horrified and confused and probably questioning Matt's sanity and Vera… didn't understand what just happened.

"So… your ex-girlfriend from college apparently died and was brought back to life, because that sounds like something the Hand could do, obviously, they can do anything, and she's a backstabbing killer with no heartbeat now. And— and she- killed Stick and took Danny. _Šmarja."_

Matt shot Vera a desperate look and Vera's mind raced. There was something about what Matt had said…

"Wait. She almost killed the architect?... She's been in town for a while then. You've fought her before, haven't you?" she realized, amazed and horrified. It was obvious. Jesus. What the hell? "And you didn't think it was a good idea to mention her?"

Say that Matt was very uncomfortable with Vera asking him questions was an understatement. A _huge_ understatement. Something in her stomach knotted unpleasantly, something they had no time for now, she fucking knew it was jealously, but it was also pure _anger_ , because here it was again, Matt's _not sharing_ and if Matt hadn't mention this woman, it must have been intentional; for some reason, he didn't want Vera to know.

 _Why?_

"Vera— I- I don't know what to tell you. I found out some things about my past and Stick and…"

"And what?" she asked, betrayed. What could possibly make him keep his ex, who was now apparently a killing machine which somehow seemed equally relevant as the 'ex' part, from her?

Because Vera was coming up with only one single explanation and it was maybe unfair, especially given what Colleen had told her, what Terri had told her, Foggy had, hell, _Matt_ had and it was making _no sense._

"Stick, he… he had manipulated me more than I thought-" Matt stuttered and Vera was just done _._

"Oh, come on…" she muttered under her breath, running her hand down her face.

This wasn't happening.

"Vera, I need to talk to you," Terri's voice sounded from the door and Vera shot her a surprised and very _exhausted_ look.

Vera was fucking beat. She hadn't properly eaten for god knew how long, she hadn't slept, she was scared and emotionally drained and Matt was fucking keeping secrets from her, possibly having feeling for his resurrected (?!) ex from college.

"Not the time, Terri," she mumbled. "Sorry-"

"NOW."

Vera eyed her, taken aback by the urgency in her voice.

To make it perfect, Detective Knight appeared behind Terri's shoulder and she seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Mr. Murdock. You're awake."

"Detective? Detective Knight, is that you?" Matt asked, confused, putting his glasses on. Vera mentally rolled her eyes at his charade. He was perfect in his role, wasn't he? Acting and lying was definitely one of his strong suits when it was convenient for him.

She bit her cheek at the poisonous thought, but goddammit, that secrecy _stung_.

"Vera-" Terri urged again.

Vera held her hand up against Matt (not that he seemed too disappointed she didn't want to hear anything else from him) and walked out with Terri with a sigh. It wasn't like she could be any use right now and the ugly feeling in her gut caused by Matt keeping some crazy ninja ex-girlfriend being in town killing people from her probably wasn't a good thing to discuss right now. Especially not in front of Detective Knight.

They had more pressing issues than Vera's hurt feelings. Danny had been kidnapped. More people were about to die no doubt.

"What's going on, Ter?"

"Let's talk somewhere else…" Terri hissed, taking Vera's elbow hastily, pulling her… somewhere, away.

"Terri-" Vera protested, finally looking at her friend properly. For the first time, she noticed how pale Terri was. It freaked her out. "Terri, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Terri pulled her behind a corner and checked their surroundings. What she said sent Vera into a cardiac arrest.

"I— I had a vision."

' _I had a vision.'_

It seemed like an eternity since Vera had offered Terri to contact the Avengers for helping her to deal with the insane ability she had somehow gained. _Seeing the future._ But not all future – only the tragic events. Vera could barely imagine how terrible that had to be for her friend despite the fact she had saved Vera's life thanks to the ability. But when Vera had finally reached Natasha Romanov, Terri had seemed to change her mind from 'that would be cool' to 'God, let's just leave it the way it is'. Vera suspected that Terri genuinely regretted her decision now.

'I had a vision' technically meant a tragedy was about to happen. And while Terri's vision apparently had no concrete time placement, the circle of people she was able to 'look out' for was very small. Which probably meant that Vera's life was in danger. Well. Tell her something she didn't know.

Then again, there was a thick chance this wasn't about Vera at all and Terri saw someone else she cared deeply for and wanted Vera's help.

"What did you see?" Vera asked in a strangled voice, a lump in her throat growing in incredible speed.

"…I saw a building blow up."

 _Jesus_. _Will this ever end? Isn't there a ceiling to craziness?_

"What building? Who was there?"

Terri threw her hands in the air desperately. "I have no fucking idea. Some fancy skyscraper. But Vera—shit…"

"What?" The look in Terri's eyes gave Vera the answer. For some reason, it was almost calming. "You saw me, didn't you?"

"I saw you – _crying_."

"What?"

"The police and paramedics were everywhere. And it was Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Claire, Colleen, Danny and you – crying in the middle of them," Terri whispered slowly as if she was trying to explain something to a child.

Vera blinked, not understanding. She didn't _want_ to understand what Terri was saying. No. That was— that wasn't- but-

"I don't— that's not-"

"I'm pretty sure I saw it because _someone_ you care about a lot was in that building. And something tells me that it was definitely not me."

Vera dully stared at ugly wall behind Terri's head, her mind caught in a loop.

No. Not possible. That wouldn't— _how_ would that happen? Since when the Hand blew up buildings? And why on Earth-

That was _not_ about to happen. Terri's sixth sense radar was broken. The knot in Vera's stomach got much tighter and it had nothing to do with jealousy. Nope, jealousy was long gone.

Terri's touch on Vera's forearm was gentle, careful, but it snapped Vera from her thoughts as violently as if it had been squeezed in a vice instead. Vera eyed her friend, not, _not_ believing the possibility of something like that ever happening.

"Now, I'm telling you, because I believe that if I told Murdock, nothing would change. I'm telling you, because I hope you can convince him to be careful or something and _not_ because I want you to do some reckless shit, _do you understand?"_ Terri emphasized, voice deadly serious.

Vera's mind finally unlooped itself and started racing in cosmic speed, the world around her disappearing. She had no idea how long they stood there or how many people had passed them. She had bigger issues.

She licked her lips nervously, her heart as frantic as her mind.

"Terri, do you know what the main difference between me and Matt is?" she rasped, her vocal cords somewhat failing.

"I'm starting to think that apart from the obvious anatomy, nothing," she pointed out. It almost made Vera smile. Almost.

"I ask for help when I know I'm over my head. I need to make a call."

"Haven't you tried to call the Avengers already?" Terri asked, confused.

That was the truth, yes, she had. And?

"I have. And I'll do it again and again until _someone_ picks up their fucking phone!"


	11. Ally wanted

**11\. Ally wanted**

Vera was pissed. She was pissed at Matt for not telling her things, she was pissed at herself for not being more careful when keeping Matt's secret, she was pissed at the Avengers who had lied through their teeth when saying she or Matt could call them any time, she was pissed at the Hand for making their world insanely dangerous again and she was fucking pissed at the whole universe, because Matt was apparently about to _die_.

Vera knew Matt would be pissed too if he knew she was trying to drag someone else into this fight. But honestly, she didn't give a shit, because him staying alive was kinda her priority. She just kept trying. Over. And over. Again. She lost count.

Somewhere along the way, Mrs. Walker called her, asking her if she knew when she was coming back to work again; Vera had no answer for that. Her boss was not pleased, but when Vera gently reminded her, that it didn't depend on Vera and it was on the police to decide when she would not need their protection anymore, Mrs. Walker seemed mollified; especially hearing Vera's _tired_ voice. Vera wondered how her _terrified_ voice would work, because the longer she spoke to her boss, the more impatient she was getting, the more guilt she was feeling, because she had no time for that, there were so much more important things to do; like trying to save Matt's freaking life.

Matt had had three super-powered people and his mentor with him when his psychotic ex had impaled Stick and kidnapped Danny. How could she have done that? How was even possible for anyone to do that?! And if Luke, Jessica and Danny hadn't been enough, how could _Vera_ help to keep Matt alive? Her only option was to call up some back-up, but _obviously_ , the Avengers weren't around, just like the last time this whole Hand and Chaste shit-storm had arrived.

Vera froze. _Just like the last time._

The idea was insane and condemned to fail, Vera was well-aware of that. But she didn't really have much of choice, did she? She searched the internet; she had no idea if she should be even keeping her hopes up when she found the number. She copied and dialled.

Oh boy. _This is what clutching straws looks like._

When the voice on the other end of the line actually spoke, introducing themselves , Vera gulped, panicking. What if the answer indeed would be no? What option she would have left?

"Hey. It's… Vera, uhm, Vera from New York. Hell's Kitchen. Barista… among other things. I— I really need your help."

The lump in her throat was growing gradually as she was explaining the situation – not that she had much time for that, so she was keeping it as short as possible. Yet, she was barely in the middle of the story when Detective Knight walked out of the precinct, spotting Vera and making her way right to her.

"Shit. I gotta go. Just… _please?"_ Vera murmured to the phone, her last chance to speak up before the detective was in the earshot, watching her with inquiring gaze, attentive eyes scanning her. Vera kept her body from shivering with the power of her will.

This could mean nothing good.

"Detective Knight. Is everything alright?"

"Had an important call to make?" the detective asked, suggesting Vera's hidden agenda. Oh, she had no idea what Vera's agenda was, that was for sure.

"Yes, as the matter of fact. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Maybe it was only Vera's imagination, but the woman's smile was a little predatory. And Vera was her prey; it didn't feel good.

"Actually, yes. I'd like to talk to you." _We're talking._ "Let's come inside."

Vera gulped as Detective Knight spun on her heels. Vera followed her with displeasure and fear. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Detective Knight wanted to talk to her, that was the thing Vera had been afraid of. Though 'had' felt like the key word, because ever since Vera had talked to Terri, a different fear made it to the top of that list.

When they were passing the common room, Vera peeked in, shooting Terri a panicked gaze. She noticed Karen was frowning at her; apparently, the other Matt's friend did not share Foggy's opinion about Vera not being responsible for spreading Matt's secret. Vera quickly looked away. She was _not_ about to give up Matt's identity to anyone else. Especially not Detective Knight.

 _Don't let her see your fear,_ Vera reminded herself as she entered an interrogation room. _Yeah, easier said than done. Christ._

"Take a seat, miss Machackova," the detective beckoned to the chairs and Vera, because she needed _something_ to pluck up her courage, sat down on the side where there was no hook for handcuffs. Knight raised her eyebrows at that, but the corners of her lips quirked.

Yeah, Vera was hilarious, no doubt, thanks for noticing. The detective leaned onto the table, causing the unpleasant knot in Vera's stomach becoming impossibly tight. The position Knight was in – it reminded her of the infamous Collins interrogation. It felt like ages ago, but Vera remembered her own fear too well.

But she also remembered she had kicked his lawyer's ass at court. She looked up to her face; Knight seemed curious.

"I was hoping you could fill in some blanks for us," the woman announced, making Vera's heart jump. Yep, this was it. _Keep it together, Veronika_.

"Me? Why? Why do you think I have information to fill in your blanks?"

" _Cute._ Both you and Murdock are cute when playing dumb, but not very convincing." Vera's eyes widened in horror. Did she just…? "You can drop it. We are cooperating with the 15th precinct."

Vera allowed herself to breathe. Okay, if Knight knew Matt's identity, she would probably throw it to Vera's face victoriously. She wouldn't mention the 15th precinct. Vera had no idea where the 15th precinct was.

"Turns out you're quite a piece of work. You had your amount of adventures. Not only the crew of former Nelson & Murdock has ties to Daredevil, apparently you do as well," Knight continued.

Bouncing off, she slowly walked around the table. It probably should have been intimidating, but surprisingly enough, it wasn't. It made Vera smile for some reason; possibly because she was finally going insane.

She remembered Collins once again.

"The last cop who thought that is behind bars, because he kidnapped me and tortured me with no result, so that suggests your assumption is wrong," Vera exclaimed with confidence she didn't know she had.

Knight would _not_ find out about Matt. Just no.

The woman looked annoyed and slightly irritated. She leaned onto the table again.

"Look, Ms. Machackova. I recommend you to cut this bullshit. You are Daredevil's confidant. You know things," she replied Vera's challenge with same confidence. Except unlike Vera, she actually had a reason to have some. "You were talking to him outside, weren't you?"

Vera blinked in surprise. _Oh._ Was that really what the detective think? Nice guess, actually. But no. Vera tried to keep her face straight, fighting the urge to smile.

"Maybe."

"'Maybe'…. Despite the loyalties you apparently have towards the vigilante, I believe that you are a reasonable person. Your fiancée is now a person of interest. I believe you don't want him behind bars before you can even get married. Not to mention what it would do to his career if the information of him being a murder suspect leaked, if he was under investigation."

Once again, Vera should be intimidated. She should be horrified. All she was right now was desperate and _pissed_.

"I'm sorry, are you threatening me?" she asked incredulously.

"No-"

"Because it sure as hell looks like it."

"I'm trying to reason with you, so we don't have to hold you for obstruction of justice-" the woman explained simply and Vera was in fact getting afraid. Mostly because it would probably mean more questioning and she had no idea how long she could keep the secret and how _long_ until she would become insane in this room.

"What?!" she shrieked.

The door to the interrogation room buzzed, revealing another black officer of law. Vera couldn't believe her eyes.

"Mind if I enter your interview, Detective Knight?" he asked with a tiny smile.

Vera stared at the man as if he was a fata morgana.

 _Brett?_

The 15th precinct. Hell's Kitchen. _Of fucking course._

"I don't believe you should," the detective refused, measuring him from head to toe disapprovingly.

"Due all respect, Detective, I have much more experience when it comes to Veronica Machackova," he offered, unfazed. "Threats won't make her cooperate."

Well, they _might_. But Brett's presence made her relax, lose the tension in her shoulders she hadn't realized she had. She took a deep breath, calm. It really _was_ like Collins case all over again. Righteous cop to the rescue. The thought almost made her smile.

" _Due all respect,_ Sergeant-" Knight snapped, irritated by his boldness.

"I much rather talked to him, Detective Knight," Vera interjected, earning a sharp glare from the woman. Her heart stopped, but her mind raced. "And he's right. Your threats won't make me tell you anything you seem to think I know. I'm not afraid of you or of what you can do."

Thank god the detective couldn't hear heartbeats like someone else Vera knew.

"Listen to me, you-"

"Detective?" Brett cleared his throat tactfully and Knight looked at him strictly, before raising one of her hands in a defensive gesture.

"Fine. But I'm staying." She rested her back against the wall, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Of course. Hey, Vera," Brett greeted her as he sat opposite to her, expression rather serious, but his eyes kind as always.

"Sergeant."

He frowned. "I thought we were on the first name basis. I almost considered us friends. I was actually offended to be the last to know about your engagement."

Vera couldn't help it. She snorted.

"I'm sure Matt would love to hear that." She tried to ignore Knight's incredulous glare. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you. We thought we covered everyone. "

"You _do_ have lots of friends these days."

"Uh-uh…" The cop was back, overshadowing the friend.

"Look, Vera…. I know you keep secrets, I might not like it, I might tolerate it. But we need you to give us _something_. We don't ask you to give up Daredevil's identity. We just need to know what you know about what's going on in here. So we could help. Because no offense, your friends look like they're way over their heads."

 _You have no idea._

Brett spoke to her bluntly. No loops, no traps, no sugar-coating. Detective Knight was direct as well, but she was far less friendly and while she might make a disapproving face at something Brett had said, she could probably see that unlike her, Brett was getting to Vera.

"It'll only get you killed. Everyone who gets in their path ends up seriously hurt or _dead_ ," Vera whispered, her voice wavering on the last word.

"I already know that." Knight cut in. "Which is why we need to stop them."

"You _know_ that, huh?" Vera snapped, earning two surprised faces. They didn't know _shit_. And Vera knew more than she wanted.

"Vera-"

"You don't know _anything,"_ Vera chuckled humourlessly before covering her mouth to stop another desperate sound. She finally broke under all the pressure. That was it. "Want to know what I know? Fine. The body you found? I had the pleasure with the guy."

"Which one?" the detective demanded, leaving her place, voice curious and pleased with them making some progress.

"What do you mean 'which one'?!" Vera burst out, horrified.

"There were two bodies. One impaled, one decapitated. Black male over forty-"

" _Jesus._ I don't know anything about him." _Thanks for that, Matt._

"The older white male then?" Brett offered patiently.

"Yes."

"When and where did you meet him?"

Vera gulped, looking away. Brett would _not_ like this. She had lied to him. But she had reasons, okay?!

 _Doesn't everybody?_

 _Not the time, Veronika._

"He was at my apartment."

"What? When?" Brett asked, frowning. "And when you say 'your apartment'…"

"I mean the apartment I lived in before I moved in with Matt," Vera clarified, unable to meet his no doubt betrayed gaze. "He was the one who tried to strangle me and also one of the men who attacked me at my apartment and… and impaled me."

"But back then you described someone else and the other guy you said you hadn't seen-"

"I lied." _Technically._ She hadn't seen the guy who impaled her from behind, so she hadn't been lying compeltely.She gulped, finally looking into Brett's eyes. He seemed surprised, but not extremely offended or wounded.

"Do you have a name?" Knight wanted to know. Vera shook her head.

"Just an alias. 'Stick'."

Vera tried her best to ignore the feeling of being punched to her gut as the name left her lips. And their sceptical gazes.

"Do you know why this… _Stick_ guy came after you?"

"He wanted Daredevil. Daredevil cared about me. Easy equation – he kills me, the Devil rather leaves than lets it happen to anybody else," Vera explained, shrugging.

"Why would he want the Devil to leave?" Brett queried, apparently lost.

"Leave _with him,_ to fight an ancient war. Yes, I know how insane that sounds. But at least it gives you the idea of with just how crazy shit you're dealing with."

"The Hand," the woman stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry?"

"The Hand, that's the name of the organization we're tracking, Luke told us that. What does some war has to do with that?" the detective pried.

"The war is between the Hand and another organization that is trying to stop them, obviously," Vera said simply.

"Wait, so when The Devil of Hell's Kitchen dropped off the face of Earth…?"

"He left with the organization fighting the Hand, yes."

"So what? Now the man was back and… who killed him?" Brett wondered.

Vera licked her lips. Who had killed him? _Matt's ex, who is apparently a crazy assassin, who might and might not be dead and apparently is strong enough to fight off Luke Cage, Jessica Jones and Daredevil. Though Daredevil might have been holding back, because he possibly still has feelings for her, which would be a perfect explanation of why he never bothered to mention her to me._

Vera had honestly no clue what she should be feeling. Jealously? Confusion? Exhaustion? Fear? Panic? Because the last one just started crawling up to her throat.

"I'm not sure… " It wasn't even a lie. "I don't know everything. I just know that this is some serious shit and whatever they want with Danny Rand can't be good and you keeping Jessica and— and Luke isn't helping things-"

"What about Murdock? What does he has to do with it?" Detective Knight asked, curious once more.

"What?" Vera breathed, tone somewhere between all the feelings that kept fighting to win the superior position.

"Vera, how did Matt get involved in all this? Is it a stupid coincidence? He happened to be Jessica Jones' lawyer when she got involved?" Brett offered her patiently, some gleam in his eyes that scared Vera despite the fact his expression was nothing but kind.

The way he asked the question felt weird. Why was he creating theories? Why not just ask her? Not that she complained. Her brain was slowly shutting down. It was a matter of time before she would slip, she could feel it, and it made her feel even weaker. She couldn't let any other people know.

"Y-yeah."

"And he was Danny Rand's lawyer as well, wasn't he? Helped him to get his life back after Danny Rand turned out to be alive?"

He was giving her an out, Vera slowly realized. Brett was giving her an out, because he didn't want her to worry about what she was saying. To worry about giving away something she wanted to keep secret. A secret that was very important and Vera seemed to be spreading it involuntarily everywhere she went.

A secret Brett apparently knew.

A cop actually knew. And wasn't that just an icing on the cake? A cherry on top?

Well, at least Vera _liked_ Brett and trusted him.

"Y-yes. And he's— he's my fiancée. You said that yourselves; apparently I'm known to be tied to Daredevil, which makes people around me a target. It- it's a vicious circle. I'm involved because of Matt's activities and he's involved because of me."

Brett smiled at her reassuringly. Yeah, it wasn't too bad Brett knew, right? He could be their inside cop.

"Okay. Good. Do you know any-"

The fire alarm went off.

Knight took a beeline for the door, Brett right behind her. He turned to Vera from the doorway, pointing at her in warning.

"Stay here!" he hissed and Vera, who had risen from the chair as well, sank back. Brett quickly nodded, disappearing. Vera jumped to the door before it could close.

' _Stay here.'_ Like hell.

Brett sighed when he saw her in the hall after the biggest chaos calmed down.

"I told you to stay there," he admonished her, not looking really surprised she wasn't where he had left her.

Vera shrugged. She didn't really care. All she could think of right now was the hole in the wall of the office Matt had been recovering in. _A hole in a wall_ , _created by a punch._ What was their life?

"Come here," he took her elbow and Vera hissed.

She had completely forgotten about it – one, the pain faded a little and second, she had bigger problems than a sore arm. _Jesus_ , if felt like eternity since Matt had pinned her to the ground. Even longer since had he pinned her anywhere the fun way. Vera felt like she had aged years in the past few hours.

Brett led her to the vending machine room, seating her on one of the chairs. Vera didn't protest. She felt… numb. Matt had just run off with Jessica and Luke, apparently. The good news was that Vera had glanced Claire and Colleen on the halls, so they possibly had time until Terri's vision would come true.

"What do you want? Mars? Reese's? Got fond of peanut butter?"

"Thank you, Brett. That's very kind of you, but I don't really feel like eating," she assured him, attempting at least a small grateful smile. She failed.

The cop sighed again, choosing by himself. A package of mini Reese's landed on the table. "Eat. You look like you could use some sugar or hard liquor and the latter is not an option, so…"

"Shame," she hummed, staring at the package of sweets with displeasure. Her stomach growled. _Traitor._

Vera huffed and reached for the stupid chocolate. If she was about to be numb and on verge of a mental breakdown at the same time, she might as well do it with some glucose in her bloodstream. Maybe her brain would reboot.

Brett sat down few chairs over, watching her. "You know, they think Jones and Cage kidnapped Matt."

Vera was glad she had something in her mouth, because otherwise she would hardly hold back a snort; but she had a little self-preservation and knew better than making weird noises with her mouth full.

Yeah, sure. Because Matt would totally let them took him against his will. Vera wouldn't be surprised if it would have been his own idea.

"What do _you_ think?" she asked, not really caring.

"I sure hope you don't consider me completely stupid," he hummed, taking one candy as well, casual as if they were talking about the weather.

Vera wasn't surprised. She had been sure he knew Matt's identity the moment he had helped her deal with Detective Knight.

"How long do you know?"

Brett _did_ seem surprised how emotionless she sounded. Honestly, she didn't care about it either.

"For a while. There were just too many coincidences. The timing of the disappearance, the return. You being so close to all of it. I got to know you; there was no way you were playing it on two sides – you're too honest for that. So if you're with Daredevil and with Matt… him breaking my jaw helped too."

That did snap Vera from her apathy a little. "I'm so sorry for that-"

"Vera, I've told you before. You're not responsible for the guy," Brett noted, unimpressed.

"But I was the one who pissed him off," Vera questioned. "I was the one who decided to get involved in the whole Worshippers shit and you were the one who got his bones broken for my decisions."

"Just one. It wasn't your fault. Don't go there. If I didn't ask you about contacting the Devil and didn't spill the beans about the Worshippers, you might have never gotten involved and almost got crucified. Don't you think?"

Vera huffed, taking another candy. She had no response for that.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Do you have any idea where did they go, Vera? I'm asking so we could help them, I promise. The guy who almost killed you is dead and there is a billionaire they have taken and we still know jack-"

Brett was cut off by Claire and Detective Knight storming into the room. Brett and Vera snapped their heads to them. Vera did _not_ like their expressions.

"Colleen's gone," Claire announced sharply, breathless.

Vera's heart stopped. That could mean nothing good.

"I'm sorry, what?!" Vera burst out, jumping off her chair.

"The chick that came in bleeding," Knight reminded her as if Vera needed it.

"I know who Colleen-"

"We need to get to them," Claire interrupted her urgently. "Where do you think, Vera? Midland Circle?"

The firm ground under Vera's feet disappeared.

' _What building? Who was there?'_

' _I have no fucking idea. Some fancy skyscraper…'_

The architect. The fancy building Matt had fought the Hand in. The C4 Matt had mentioned.

 _Jesus fucking Christ, how could I be so incredibly stupid?_

"The skyscraper. Doprdele, doprdele, do _píče_ — YES. That's exactly where they would go-"

"Vera, what's wrong?" Brett caught her forearm and Vera realized her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

They had gone to Midland Circle. Vera hadn't heard anyone talk about the C4 when they had disappeared, but that didn't mean anything. Four of six people Terri had seen in her vision were probably already on place – well, three, because the one she hadn't seen had stayed behind.

Vera didn't really think she and Claire staying here now would change anything. She had tears of helplessness in her eyes when she whispered the simplest answer she could.

"Everything."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

In Mambo no.5 rhythm: A little bit drama in my life, a little bit of fear by my side, a little bit of angst is all I need, an upcoming tragedy is what I see…

…Sorry. Thoughts?

At the end, that's just Vera cursing in Czech more colourfully than ever, don't worry about it… and don't use it randomly when visiting Czechia, people would look at you _really_ offended.


	12. Free will is a myth

**12\. Free will is a myth**

Vera was really starting to like this woman. Detective Knight was one hell of a cop, sure, but mostly, one hell of a person, smart and apparently reasonable when it counted.

It had taken Vera few minutes to calm down and she had spent them with her palm on Brett's chest and his firm grip on her shoulder. Claire had been talking to her urgently, persuading her she could handle this and they had her needed to, because they had all been in danger.

Nothing had helped her as much as Knight's voice, cutting through Vera's rapid's breaths and Claire's attempts to comfort her and get-it-together speech.

"I'll take you there."

Vera's blurry vision had cleared almost instantly. Brett and Claire had stared at the detective incredulously.

"You mean it," Claire had said, frowning in doubt.

"Yes."

That was how they found themselves on the streets of New York in huge Honda, taking sharp turns.

"Why you're doing this?" Vera breathed from the back seat, still processing that the detective had actually taken Vera and Claire to a car, driving them to Midland Circle without alerting anyone else of the NYPD force, Brett staying and promising to have his lips sealed.

Detective Knight eyed her in the rear-view mirror, not answering at first. Then she sighed tiredly.

"Look, Machackova. I really don't like this. Neither I like the way you think you can just get away with lying to the police and openly protect Daredevil's identity. But the truth is he's trying his best and what's more, so is Luke. I trust Luke. Even I can tell we're over our heads, all of us. This Hand shitstorm is no laughing matter; if the police will go head on them, it will be a bloodbath," she explained, apparently making it up as she went.

"Getting in the way of the three or four wayward vigilantes is only making things worse. Buying them some time without cops on their back is the only thing I can do right now," she added, taking another sharp turn, the seatbelt cutting to Vera's torso.

 _Jesus_ , this woman drove like mad.

Vera was grateful for that.

"That doesn't explain why you took us along," Vera noted carefully, watching the detective. Claire remained silent.

"Maybe I just need to get rid of your annoying ass."

Vera huffed out a laugh, noticing the detective shot her an amused look in the mirror. That was alright. In the end, Vera didn't need to know her motivations; it was the outcome what was important. She definitely wouldn't look the gift horse in the mouth.

"Thank you, Misty," Claire said, giving the detective a small smile as they went down to a parking lot.

"Just make sure it's worth it and that those idiots don't die."

Vera gulped at the last note, grateful that Knight pulled over with a loud cry of the tires, revealing four figures. Four; of course Coleen had already been here.

Luke, Jessica, Colleen and Matt stared at the car, ready to defend themselves. Claire and Misty threw the doors open.

"Hold it!" the detective warned and Vera slowly opened her door too, getting out as Claire asked what happened. When Vera was closing the door, she looked at Matt; he was leaning forward, gripping his billy club tightly. He was clearly not happy about the development.

"No time to explain," Luke cut them off.

Vera quickly scanned the parking lot. 'What happened' seemed like a relevant question, given the mess. She eyed Matt again; his face was twisted in a strange grimace – it made Vera feel more than uneasy. Was he in such pain that he couldn't hide it, displaying it on his face? Or what was it what she saw?

He was _alive_ and that was all that mattered.

"Like hell here isn't," Knight complained.

"Where's Matt?" Vera asked, managing to sound outraged, actually proud of herself for thinking of asking. She felt Knight's eyes on her.

The man in question tilted his head, but didn't comment.

Jessica picked up on it, replying quickly and simply. "Safe."

Well. She was definitely a better liar than Vera or Matt himself. Because Matt was as far from 'safe' as Vera could imagine.

"Please, just let us go," Colleen breathed, tired but determined.

Vera took few steps forward, closer to the vigilantes. She would swear Matt stepped back a little. Ouch.

"You got a minute before the full force of the NYPD is here, so I need you to answer this fast," the detective informed them and they all stiffened in anticipation. "How long do you want me to stall them?"

"The longer the better," Luke admitted, not saying out loud how grateful he probably was.

"That helps," Knight hummed ironically, but nodded.

Vera smiled inconspicuously at Knight's help and approached the group with Claire right behind her. Matt's hand twitched in their direction, hinting a rejecting gesture. Vera ignored him, coming closer, her chin up, showing she could not be intimidated easily.

He would try to convince her to leave. She would not give in though.

"You're leaving," Matt almost growled, his voice permitting no objections, just like Vera had expected.

The anger in his voice… she knew what it meant, what he was trying to cover – it was just a glimpse of how much the idea of her being here terrified him. Well, tough shit. The idea of _not_ being here with him terrified her worse. Because she knew what Terri had seen; and if there was anything Vera could do to prevent it, it wasn't sitting in the police car drinking shitty coffee or something like that, that was for sure.

"Yeah, leaving with you. Wh-"

"You can't come with us!"

" _Watch me,"_ she shot back. Any other time, her choice of words might be hilarious. Now they were just words that pissed him off.

" _It's too dangerous and you will be no help!"_ he hissed, irritated.

That hurt. Vera might be not some ninja hottie (and Vera was sure the Elektra ninja woman was hot as fuck despite being some kind of a zombie), but she wasn't useless. She was fairly certain her fighting skills were superior to Claire's and Claire was apparently coming with them.

For a fraction of second, Matt seemed to feel sorry for his words, realizing he cut too deep, made her feel like something lesser; he quickly recovered, falling back into his role. He was too stubborn to apologize… and probably very determined to keep her out of this.

Too bad for him; Vera was determined more. If he could have hit a sore spot, so could she. Oh god, she hated herself for planning on reminding him the pinned-to-the-floor-and-almost-dislocating-her-shoulder incident, but _screw it._ There would be time to apologize later when he would be _still alive_.

"Well, tough shit. You want to stop me? There are several ways to do it, you know them all and tried some of them before; break my arm, break my leg. Hell, break my _neck_ , I'm sure that would work."

Shocked silence fell. No one dared to enter their fight. No one dared to even breathe. Matt looked as if someone had just used a taser on him, appalled at her words. Which was what she needed.

 _Sorry, Matt._ "You have to do that, because otherwise I'm coming with."

"Vera-" he snarled, but it was pathetic, his lips a thin line in a picture of pure misery and anger.

His voice was much weaker than before, sounding wounded. She hit the right spot. She hated herself for it, but in this case the end justified the means.

"I'm not staying behind. Deal with it. Let's move. We just spent two minutes fighting over nothing."

The group of wayward vigilantes left the garage with Claire and Vera on their tails, abandoning the detective. Vera sent the woman a silent thank you as she jogged to Matt's side; which was not an easy job, because his pace was rapid. _Furious_.

"I'm sorry for what I said there. I know you would never hurt me," she whispered, knowing there was no need to speak loudly even if she hadn't caught up with his tempo.

"I don't understand why are you so determined to get yourself killed, Vera," he strained through his gritted teeth, apparently not relenting. _That coming from him._ "You are no match for them."

Vera ignored the stung at that, because it wasn't like he was exaggerating. She barely matched Matt in the gym, in a controlled environment, and he was being nice to her. She watched his profile, the only visible part of him being his lower face; it was extremely tense.

"Which means I'm useless?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he snarled.

"I don't, actually. Because back there, it was exactly how it sounded and now it sounds just the same."

Matt winced at her wounded tone she hadn't even attempted. He finally slowed down a little, turning his head to her inconspicuously.

"Vera, these people are cold blooded murderers. They kill without giving it a second thought, they only care about power. They don't give a shit what's in their way, they just eliminate it." He sighed. "Is it really so hard to understand that I want you to stay as far from it as possible?"

"…no. No, it's not."

"I said what I thought I needed to say to keep you safe," he breathed, his mask falling despite the helmet being still on. He opened just a little, letting Vera see he still _felt_. That he really only had been trying to keep her out of the line of danger. "Apparently, it wasn't enough."

"I was serious, Matt. There was nothing you could have said. The only way of making me stay back was to disable me. Not even your resurrected ex wouldn't have hold me down."

He sighed again, corners of his lips twitching nervously. "I'm sorry for what I've said and I'm sorry for what I haven't. I didn't mean to hurt you. You're the exact opposite of useless, Vera. I thought you knew that."

Vera felt some of the weight being raised from her shoulders, the vice her chest had been for a while loosening its grip slightly. She hesitantly reached for Matt's gloved hand, surprised he immediately accepted hers, squeezing lightly.

The small gesture, the touch, it meant a lot. She hadn't realized before, but they hadn't touched since he had left her at the precinct the first time; after that, she had initiated physical contact when she had been _examining_ _him_ and had taken his hand and had kissed his forehead when he had been _unconscious_. And then he had almost dislocated her shoulder and elbow and wrist at the same time. Not exactly ideal and given how important role the touch had in their relationship, Vera hadn't realized until know how much she had felt distant from him just due to that.

Sure, the secret keeping and the shit around was still here and it was not helping; she allowed herself to smile nevertheless.

"I do now."

The group stopped when they reached a lobby, Colleen tossing the bag in her hand on the ground. It woke Vera from her little dream.

"I don't like you here either by the way, not at all," Luke informed Clare, who only smirked.

"Too late. What's in the bag?"

Colleen kneeled down, opening the bag. Vera instantly knew what was in it even without looking. She should have known.

She stared at the fucking C4, the thing that was responsible for Terri's vision and Vera wanted to puke and scream and hit something and at the same time, she just wanted to crawl to a corner and curl up in a ball, because so far everything was pointing to the direction of her failing her mission to save Matt. Vera was here at Midland Circle with everyone but Danny, whom they were about to rescue, and then they were about to blow up a building – with Matt in it.

"This isn't happening," Jessica noted, so done with this whole bullshit. Her voice sounded like from behind a glass to Vera, her own pulse too loud in her ears.

"Oh my god." Claire breathed, horrified.

"Hey, look. We grab Danny and we get him out, but if we don't end the Hand, sooner or later they'll come after us."

"This isn't happening," Jessica repeated, looking away as if the bag would disappear with the action.

"The architect, he was your guy, right?" Colleen started explaining while fishing out sheets of paper, revealing the blueprints of the building. Vera stared at it dully, unable to move or to say a single word. This was it. This was the moment she should be doing something to stop this madness and prevent— _that_.

"Don't put this shit on me," Jessica protested, disgusted.

"He planned it all-"

"No," Vera finally let out, a sound that was barely human. At least she thought so. She didn't feel like her body belonged to her anymore.

"Vera, look-"

" _No,"_ Vera repeated resolutely. "This is _insane_. Do you really want to blow up a building? With people in it?!"

 _With Matt in it?_

"We need to take the Hand down. They are murderers, Vera. They came after Danny, they came after _Matt._ You of all people should understand-"

"I do! But this is fucking insane! We're talking about mass murder here! And what if-" Vera closed her eyes, her knees almost giving up at the thought of saying it out loud. _What if someone stays behind?_

"She's right. I want to save Danny too, but-" Claire agreed, not finishing the thought, Colleen cutting in.

"Claire, you know what these people are capable of. This isn't just about Danny, this is about all of us, hell, this is about New York. They are responsible for the earthquake and that was just the beginning, you realize that, don't you?"

"Even if we do this – there is no guarantee it will end their organization," Jessica reasoned.

"It will cut out the head of a snake. Their leaders are here."

"I'm not here to take lives," Luke stated, disapproving resolutely. Vera was grateful; if Jessica was against the plan, Luke was and Claire as well…

"These people, they aren't really alive."

"And the building is empty apart from us and the Hand," Matt said and Vera's head snapped to him in horror. He was in. He wanted to do this.

"You're okay with this?" Claire turned to Matt with the same disbelief.

"I mean…"

"You can't be serious, Matt," Vera added, more desperate than surprised.

Of course he was all in for the plan that was orchestrated to kill him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered how the fuck he was okay with killing those people down there – perhaps it was because they indeed weren't really people, not really alive. How should she know? She had bigger problems than questioning his morals right now.

"She's right. And the architect knew it. The only way to end what's coming, to save the city, is to bring this building down." _And you._ "So unless there are any objections…"

"I have plenty," Vera snarled.

"So do I. I don't care how dangerous they are. I'm not part of this," Luke exclaimed, gesturing vaguely between them and the C4.

"I'm not happy about this either. But Colleen is right. The Hand will keep coming after us," Matt explained, turning to Vera, who just didn't know what to do anymore, what to _say_ to make them understand. She would choose being chased by the Hand over killing Matt any time. "Vera, you don't want that. You know too well how dangerous they are."

"Gentle reminder that it was the Chaste who almost killed me."

"And the Hand nearly killed me, Danny, Colleen and was damn close to killing everyone else in this room too. And we don't know about half of the people who died in this senseless war. The Chaste is gone. And this is our chance to shut down the Hand as well."

"They will come back. Again and again. This could end them for good," Colleen supported Matt, staring at Vera as if she was the only who was against the crazy idea of _blowing up a building and committing a mass murder._

"Look, I get that you have history with these people…" Luke started.

"So do you. So had the kid from Harlem."

"This won' bring him back," Luke turned to Matt at his protest.

"But it will prevent anyone else from getting hurt by them," Matt offered, but Vera couldn't see a hint of hesitation on Luke's face. He still didn't agree with this. Thank _god_.

"I just can't go along with this."

"Thank you!" Vera exclaimed, gesturing wildly at him, wanting to hug the shit out of him, because he seemed to be the last person thinking straight here. Even Jessica seemed torn; she was very quiet.

"For the record, everything that has been said in past four minutes is one hundred percent insane."

"Thank you!" Luke cried out at Claire's exclaim.

"But."

" _Sweet sister."_

"Seriously, Claire?!" Vera gasped, turning to the nurse, betrayed.

"We all know what the Hand is capable of, we've been all affected-"

"They keep coming back," Colleen supported her again and Vera wanted to _scream_.

"They came after our friends," Jessica spoke up after a very long time and Luke shot her a betrayed look, while Vera felt tears in her eyes. Jesus _fucking_ Christ. Just a minute ago, it had been four against two and now the numbers were the same except the majority wanted to go along with the plan.

"No. Just no. What if we fail, huh? Someone stays behind, some of us _dies_ and-" _It is going to happen. You stay behind, Matt, Terri saw it. You die._ Why wouldn't she just tell him that? "And-"

They fell into silence as Matt walked slowly to Vera, stripping his gloves, cupping her cheek. "No one is going to die. I pro-"

"Don't. Don't make promises you can't keep!" she cried out, shaking her head wildly until Matt framed her face with both hands to prevent the movement. His thumbs stroked her cheeks gently.

"If we do this, _no one_ but these Hand monsters is getting hurt, alright? Not one innocent person," Luke finally gave in and Vera squeezed her eyes shut, few tears actually escaping.

"Of course," Matt agreed, kissing Vera's forehead and Vera shivered under the tender touch. Why was she so weak? "How do we do this?"

Vera heard a rustle of paper and steps as the rest of their weird team gathered around the blueprints. Matt couldn't see what was there anyway, so he stayed with Vera, his thumb tenderly caressing her damp cheeks. It made her feel even worse, because goddammit she couldn't— she couldn't _lose_ this. She couldn't lose _him_.

"This is wrong, Matt, someone's gonna get hurt and-"

"Hey, it's gon-" Matt winced, his hands tightening on her face. "Someone's coming. A window just broke on the second floor."

Vera felt her pulse hammering in her temples, rush of blood loud in her ears. She snapped her eyes open again, Matt's reassuring hands falling from her cheeks.

Jesus, _shit_. Shouldn't all of their enemies be already downstairs? Like forty stories downstairs? Why more and more shit was coming down at them?

Darkest before the dawn she had told him, huh? She was really looking forward the dawn part. Maybe there wouldn't be any though, maybe they were cursed. It definitely felt like it now.


	13. Friend in need

**13\. Friend in need…**

Maybe it was only Vera's imagination, but the team of her badass friends created an approximation of a circle around her and Claire; the weakest parts. Vera really, really didn't like the idea, but she knew it was the truth. Also, having C4 at her feet felt worse.

"That's strange. He has something I haven't encountered with the Hand before. It sounds like… Kevlar of something, he's wearing a hood. There are tiny blades attached to the… suit. Lots of them, throwing stars…. Bow, arrows, some kind of an explosive substance," Matt whispered, his face twisted in concentration.

Vera's rapidly beating heart skipped a beat.

" _Wait, what?!"_ she hissed incredulously, hope flickering. Was it possible…?

Even Vera could tell the quick footsteps now and she inconspicuously moved from the middle of the circle – not as inconspicuously as she thought apparently, because Matt took a step to his right, blocking her path, turning his head to side as if he wanted to say ' _don't even think about it, what the hell are you doing'._ He reached for one of his billy clubs.

Vera got a glimpse of green as the person appeared, string of his bow stretched to shoot. Vera gasped, trying to break free alongside Matt as their whole group tensed in anticipation.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't shoot!" Vera yelped and touched Matt's protective arm, which was still blocking her way, attempting a comforting gesture, a silent plea to let her walk out, because _oh. My. God._ "Or throw things! Or punches!"

Vera could tell the exact moment Matt slightly relaxed; while he was still ready to attack, he was taken aback by her outburst and he hesitantly let her step out. The archer, seeing she wasn't held against her will and none of them was about to attack, lowered his bow and returned the arrow back to his quiver.

"Vera," he greeted shortly, voice disguised, deep and gravelly.

She chuckled incredulously, crossing the distance between them. Not one of her friends said a word, shocked silence being their only reaction. Vera threw her arms around him.

"You came!"

She could tell he was thrown off by her familiarity, but he hugged her with his free arm, gloved hand gently resting between her shoulder blades. It occurred to Vera how inappropriately she reacted to his arrival and made this completely awkward, but to hell with it. _He came._

"Well, it sounded urgent." Vera would swear she could hear a pleased note in his voice. She smiled through her tears. He was the one to break their hug, sensing it had lasted long enough.

" _Thank you."_

Oliver smiled under the hood warmly. Vera hesitantly eyed the group she had left; they were all staring, clueless. Matt returned his weapon to its place, recognizing Vera trusted this man; enough to run into his arms, apparently. Her cheeks flushed as Matt's head tilted in wordless wonder.

Colleen snapped from her trance first. "Who the hell is that?"

It worked like charm.

"Is that the Hawkeye guy?" Luke questioned.

"No," sounded stereo from Jessica and Matt. Matt had met Hawkeye before, so it was somewhat knowing, yet puzzled. Jessica probably knew better too, considering her observation skills.

"Well, who _is_ he then?" Colleen asked exasperatedly, throwing her arm in his direction.

Vera slowly made her way back to them, getting ready to explain. Oliver followed.

"You're the archer she stitched up."

Vera grinned at her fiancée – brilliant, _brilliant_ fiancée, who might have a chance now, because Terri sure didn't see any archer in her vision. There was _hope._

Vera saw Oliver nodding peripherally. "Yes."

"You called him," Matt accused her, but to her surprise, it didn't sound angry. She slowly walked to him. Well, she didn't call _Oliver_ directly, but….

"That I did. Because I'm-" - _not watching you die_. "…we need all help we can get."

"You—… okay."

Vera's eyebrows shot up, stopping in front of Matt. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged despite the obvious tension in his shoulders.

"I trust your judgeme-" He froze, reaching for his weapon once again. "Someone else's coming."

"I brought a friend. I hope that's okay," Oliver grunted and Vera turned to him, astonished.

He did not only come by himself but actually brought _help?!_ That was— he _was_ a do-gooder, wasn't he? He really was a hero. Vera fought the urge to hug him again. They might actually keep each other save like this.

"You're kidding? You brought _more_ people to help and you're asking if that's okay?"

Another archer, dressed in red, appeared behind his shoulder. He was smaller than Oliver, speaking both his height and broadness of his shoulders, but he was obviously a fighter too. Plus, he had a bow. He didn't even need to be a fighter per se – as far as he didn't let anyone get too close.

His outfit was pretty similar to Oliver's, but Vera had to admit the red and black looked really cool – or maybe she was just biased. Which was totally relevant in this situation. Uhm. Maybe it was the leg holster with billy clubs attached to his calf? _Not relevant, not relevant…_

"Oh boy, another guy with a thing for red leather," Jessica sneered and Vera knew she was rolling her eyes, her face screaming _I'm so done with all this shit,_ even without looking at her.

"It's Kevlar," a new mechanical voice rasped, stopping by Oliver's side. The rather tough look was completely ruined by an awkward wave. "Hey, guys."

Oliver opened his mouth just to close it. Vera guessed the red one was still in training and Oliver was done with him too. "Right. I don't know much. But I assume it's all of us against the rest?"

"There's one guy down there, he's a friend. Blond. Little bit of a beard. You'll be probably able to see a dragon tattoo on his chest," Vera explained shortly, glad Oliver had broken the awkward silence. Because. _Mission_.

"A guy with a dragon tattoo is a friend?" the red archer questioned.

"Yes," six voices answered unison and the red guy raised his hands in 'no harm' gesture.

Vera cleared her throat. Focus. Mission. "Right. So, just quickly – bulletproof." She pointed at Luke.

"Luke," he said simply, nodding. Vera smiled, continuing.

"Super-strong."

"Jessica."

"Enhanced senses. Pretty much a ninja," Vera introduced shyly, unable to resist the urge to smile.

"Mike."

Jessica rolled her eyes, muttering _jeez_ under her breath. Vera ignored her and pointed at Colleen.

"Badass with a sword."

"Colleen."

Vera wavered. How should she be introducing Claire? Like shortly? "…just badass on her own."

"Claire." She shot Vera an amused smile before returning to her serious mask. Which, okay. This whole thing was far from a laughing matter.

Right. And now the guests. "And, guys, that's— uhm… that's-"

"Arrow," Oliver came to her rescue, solving the dilemma for her. Of course he wouldn't give away his name. It wasn't like Matt in disguise gave away his own either. Which was a little ridiculous, because she was confident Oliver knew Matt's identity. Because of Vera, obviously, which… _not the time._

"Right! And…?"

"Arsenal," the other archer offered and Vera sighed in relief, happy they got this over with. Though she wouldn't mind if they stayed here, postponing the inevitable to later – possibly to _never_.

"Jesus, these _names_ ," Jessica complained, sighing too.

"Hey! And what do you do?" _Arsenal_ demanded, curious.

Vera looked at him, slightly embarrassed. Sarcasm was the way to go? Probably. "Me? I just go along and look pretty."

She saw a flash of his teeth from under the hood. "Well, you're doing a great jo-"

Oliver stopped him with a simple gesture, lips tight. "Don't-"

How was it so quiet in here that Vera heard Matt's teeth clicking together?

"Well, I just know all of them. And I attract all the trouble, so you should be safe."

"She's badass too," Claire announced, unimpressed. "Let's get this show on the road. Colleen, you know where to plant it?"

"Yes."

"Good, you're coming with me."

"What?!" Colleen snapped her head to her, incredulous. "No! I'm coming with them. Last time I stayed behind, Danny got drugged and kidnapped!"

"What kind of this shit-storm sound like _staying behind?"_ Jessica questioned, 120% done.

"Colleen, they have superpowers and bows with arrows."

"I have a katana and I'm more than capable of fighting!" Colleen argued with Claire, as stubborn as a mule. Vera understood her, she felt the same. She wasn't leaving Matt either.

"Exactly. Me and Vera? We need your help way more than they do."

"Wait, what?" Vera turned to the nurse as well, shocked. "I'm not coming-"

"-with us," Matt finished. "Vera, please. The only thing I ask for now-"

"No!" she snapped, panic taking over. She was _not_ leaving him, that was not why she had come here!

"I'll have his back, Vera." Vera jumped at the sound of Oliver's mechanical voice. She gaped at him. Well, he caught up fast. She hadn't had the time to tell Felicity about the vision, but apparently, she had sounded desperate enough. "I see my help is needed, but I understand the reason called is personal as well. And I came here for it. I'll look out for him. You have my word."

Well, when he put it like that… if Vera would come down with them, Matt would be more likely to get injured, his focus split, constantly checking up on her, not minding his own surroundings. On contrary, if he would know Vera was safe and would have Oliver by his side…

"O-okay. Alright."

For a second, she wondered how Matt kept his mouth shut when they were talking about him needing a back-up, making it sound as if he was the damsel in distress in this situation. He _was_ , but he didn't know that.

"How the hell did you two meet again?" Claire questioned, watching the green archer from head to toe.

Vera thought for a moment. There was no way to sugar-coat it. Also, her brain was running oh like three pieces of Reese's, she had not enough energy to actually come up with something creative.

"He appeared at my window. I let him in, lent him my phone, told him to take his pants off-"

"What?!" one mechanical voice grunted at the same time like Claire and Luke. "You what?!" "Sweet Christmas."

"That's actually true. She told me to do that," Oliver hummed, slightly amused.

"Jesus, Vera," Matt spluttered and Vera realized how idiotically that sounded out of context.

"It wasn't— come on..."

Jessica couldn't help but comment. "One of them thinks she looks pretty, the other one she saw without pants… lover boy over hereis running around in fetish gear… you're fun."

" _Please,_ this whole group is _funny,"_ Vera noted, allowing herself to have one more moment of self-protecting sarcasm.

Jessica made a face that hinted Vera that she had to admit she wasn't exactly wrong, considering.

"Anything we should know?" Arsenal pried. Vera rolled her eyes, explaining.

"I'm with M-Mike. Claire dates Luke. Colleen dates the guy downstairs."

"And she?" he beckoned to Jessica.

"None of your business. But I used to… _date_ him." She shortly beckoned to Luke.

"And we kissed," Claire admitted, pointing at Matt subtly.

Vera couldn't see the archer's face, but she was pretty sure it screamed shock. He was freaked out

Oliver cleared his throat. "So, the plan? I understand you want to split."

"Oh, yeah. The girls here are blowing up this building. You're cool with that, right?" Jessica asked sarcastically while being – sadly – deadly serious.

Oliver spun to her in disbelief. "You what?!"

"It's… complicated. I don't like it at all. None of us likes it much actually. But that's the plan. They go underground to fight ninjas, and we are apparently planting bombs to stop a deadly ancient organization of people who might not be people anymore," Claire explained dryly.

"That's insane."

"It is. We've been over this. Let's go," Colleen cut off the discussion, grabbing the bag.

Vera spent another precious seconds looking at Matt's figure disappearing behind the corner, throat tight, her chest in a vice. This could _not_ be the last time she would see him.

Claire grabbed her hand as the reception got illuminated in blue and red of the police cars lights.

"Come on. We need to move. They take care of each other."

Vera sighed, her throat tight like never. "I hope you're right. I really, really hope you're right."

Claire was holding the blueprints, giving them directions.

"For what it's worth, I have to believe they will take care of each other too," Colleen noted and the three women exchanged sympathetic looks. Well. They all needed to believe, right? Except Vera was the one who had an actual reason to worry.

"Well, they better," Vera huffed, swallowing the hysteria that was climbing up her throat once again.

"And we'll take care of each other," Claire reassured them both. "Now right."

"And do you remember what we talked about at the police station? What you two told me? Maybe you were wrong, maybe you weren't. But I hope you know that me coming with you? It's not because I think you're weak. You might not have the ability to hear heartbeats or throw people across the room, you're not the one making the headlines, but that doesn't make you less of heroes."

They fell into reverential silence, only interrupted by the sound of their footsteps. All things considered, they did _make_ quite a team. Sure, Colleen was an ultimate badass with a sword, who would be able to fight to protect them… but in case she would fail, Claire was here to help with any injury. Vera… well. She was somewhere in the middle, little bit of this and little bit of that; or she hoped so. She could be flexible.

"You're gonna make me blush," Claire joked lightly, earning a short laugh from the other two women.

"Ditto. Though I _did_ make a headline once and let me tell you, it sucks," Vera hummed, remembering the Collins case that seemed to be following her around.

They took two more turns. "I think this should be-"

Light jogging sounded behind them, causing them jump. Colleen shoved the bag to Vera's hand and pulled out her sword, ready to defend – or attack.

And then the red archer appeared, bow and his free hand raised in harmless gesture.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Colleen hissed at him, returning her katana to the case.

"The Arrow sent me," he offered innocently like a good baby archer in training respecting the order of the elders.

Vera glared at him, eyes narrowed. That wasn't right.

" _Mike_ sent you," she corrected him, immediately knowing it was the truth. Anger bubbled in her chest.

"Fine, yes, Mike sent me and the Arrow agreed-"

"They need you more than we do!" Vera exploded, irritated, feeling the icy fingers of fear and nausea rising in her stomach. _Again_. If these feeling had ever left; she wasn't so sure about that.

"…and the Arrow told me to tell you he would protect Mike with his life," he said slowly, taking few steps closer to her as if he was approaching a wild animal. Which was actually kinda fitting. Vera was furious; it had looked like she had achieved something that might save Matt and now he was raining on her parade. "I had to promise Mike doing the same with you, by the way."

Vera's heart jumped at that. Of course Matt would ask him that. She should have seen it coming; she was much closer to the fire then he would like, it made sense. What _was_ surprising though was that Arsenal had probably promised that and Matt had let him go; which meant the red archer hadn't lied. Which… huh.

Colleen sighed, rolling her eyes, pushing the door open. "Let's go."

They entered the engineering works of some sort, looking around, searching for the main pillars. The bag strings burned in Vera's palm, her stomach rolling over. This was insane. This was-

"Here," Claire pointed them the right direction, the four or them following her instructions immediately; some of them more willingly than the others.

Vera lowered the bag carefully, zipping it open. She thought she might actually puke when seeing the C4 again. She was a bomber. She was a fucking bomber and she was momentarily _helping_ with blowing up the building that was supposed to bury her fiancée. This was _not_ _okay_. She wasn't okay.

They started planting the explosives on their place; Vera's hands were shaking violently, tears stinging her eyes.

She yelped when someone yanked her arm, pulling her aside; the sound of horror was perfectly muted by a gloved hand attached to a black-red long sleeve covering her mouth.

"Someone's coming," the disguised voice of _Arsenal_ whispered to her ear when they were safely hidden behind one of the pillars.

If Vera didn't just have a small heart attack and the purpose of hiding wasn't to be hidden and _quiet_ , she would thank him. He released her, understanding she wouldn't scream or expose herself. She quickly scanned her surroundings, seeing Claire hiding together with Colleen.

"Colleen," slick voice called out and Vera saw the two other women soundlessly sigh in defeat. Guess they both knew who that was. Vera had no clue. The red archer pulled out an arrow from his quiver. "I will find you..."

Colleen drew out her katana, the action followed by Claire grabbing Colleen's hand and shaking her head violently. Vera made a disapproving gesture too as Colleen met her gaze. Then the former member of the Hand focused on Arsenal, shaking her head as well. _Do not engage._

Colleen stepped out from her hideout and Claire had not much of a choice – she let go, hiding as a back-up, her face pissed off.

"No need," Colleen reassured the man. "I'm done hiding."

"Colleen," the man greeted her, sickeningly pleased. Vera eyed Claire, afraid for her new friend, who was gradually erasing the distance between her and the mysterious man. "We meet again. I told you, our fates are aligned."

"Except it isn't fate. I came here to end this."

Vera could feel Arsenal tense behind her, shifting his stance to have better view and proper position to shoot when needed. Vera appreciated it, moving out of his way. She closed her eyes, trying to persuade herself that the guy, whoever he was, was outnumbered without knowing so.

Claire's ringtone cut the silence, making Vera, Arsenal and the woman in question jump twenty feet above the floor. What the actual-

Claire quickly silenced it, but it was too late.

"Did you come here for me?" the man mocked Colleen, wry tone dripping with a threat. "Or did you simply follow? I trained you to believe in yourself and your purpose. It's not too late to come back to us."

Oh god, this guy was _so_ a member of a crazy ninja ancient organization with the way he spoke. Colleen didn't respond at all.

Until she did, lunging at the man with her katana.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I'm cheating with the crossovers again. Sorry. You can re-read Vera-Oliver meeting in the fic 'Keep On Hoping' (set during Matt's time away with Stick in 'Damned If I Don't').


	14. is a friend indeed

**14: …is a friend indeed**

Claire might have silenced the phone, but she hadn't decline the call. In contrary – she accepted. Vera stared at her incredulously. Who the fuck was so important that she couldn't leave them hanging when fighting for their lives?

"Real bad timing," the nurse hissed to the phone and Vera mouthed 'understatement' to relieve some of her inner tension.

Claire listened to the person on the other end of the line, while Arsenal aimed his arrow. Vera could see a shadow of discontentment under the hood – he couldn't get a clear shot. Vera registered the man Colleen apparently had a history with was talking to her while their katanas kept clanking.

"Just make sure to clear the block, okay?" Claire pleaded, pausing again. Clear the block? Cops? Knight? "There's a lot of this stuff in here."

The swords fell silent for a moment and Vera heard Colleen's voice clearly now. "I don't need you anymore."

It was the exact moment Arsenal released the string of the bow – Vera glanced at the fighting pair and saw Colleen supporting herself onto the ground, providing the archer what he needed.

Vera failed to supress a gasp as the man deflected the arrow in one swift movement of his blade. What the actual-

Arsenal shot three more arrows in speed Vera had no idea a man could possess; the man deflected two more, but one of the three hit his shoulder. He fucking cut the arrow sticking from him off, not bothered by the sharp arrowhead in his flesh at all.

"You brought friends. Too bad you have such a poor taste in choosing your loyalties," he mocked her. When another arrow cut through his chest right under his left collarbone, he actually smiled a little patronizingly.

Vera's heart was beating its way out of her chest, her throat tight and dry. That man had two arrows in him and looked like he barely noticed. She was suddenly convinced that Colleen hadn't been exaggerating in the slightest when saying these people weren't truly alive. But _what_ were they then? And more importantly, _how_ they could be defeated?

Before she had time to give it more thought, a door to her left flied open, several men bursting in, some more appearing behind the guy who was now fighting Colleen.

"Doprdele," Vera hissed, shooting a panicked look in Arsenal's and Claire's— where the fuck was Claire? Vera noticed her steps from where she had expected her… holding a pipe wrench. Vera just gaped, her eyes going impossibly wide.

Arsenal enclosed the distance between him and Vera again, shoving his billy clubs to her hands. Vera automatically curled her fingers around them, not quite following, not quite _wanting to_.

"You know how to use these, right?" he grumbled

Vera looked at him incredulously, terrified as the men got closer to them. He didn't wait for her response, shooting two of them; one went down, the other one kept going.

"Not really," she squeaked. Matt had borrowed her his own twice for training; it hadn't gone very well.

"I'm sure you saw them in action a lot." He took down a guy who had gotten too close to Claire before the nurse could take a swing at him with her improvised weapon.

Vera gulped, gripping her sticks tighter. _Okay, you can do this. You've seen him use it._ Yeah, she also happened to know that one could not simply learn how to fight only by watching. But Arsenal disappeared from her side and she didn't have much choice.

She dodged the first blow a bald man threw at her, successfully taking a swing at his gut with the billy club. He hissed in pain, but moved out of the way of her next attack, throwing a sloppy punch aimed at her side himself. She jumped away in the last moment, putting some distance between them.

Vera scored a lucky hit to his face, blood sprouting from the man's nose – or was it his mouth? She didn't give a shit, landing a side-kick to his knee and knocking him unconscious with another swing of her weapon. Huh. She was starting to like these. It didn't hurt her knuckles when punching people.

A gunshot rang in the room, making Vera snap her head up but crouch instinctively. She glanced at wild curly black hair of Detective Knight with a sigh of relief, straightening up again. Well, it definitely had been her on the phone earlier; that woman was better than Vera had been giving her a credit for before.

A brutal blow came from her side, someone's arms wrapping around her waist and throwing them both her and the attacker on the ground. Vera gasped as the pain shot through her ribs, her billy clubs falling from her hands with a clank. She tried to kick off the guy, but he rolled over with ease so she only hit the air. He smirked.

Great. Huge, fast _and_ cocky. At least he wasn't pinning her to the floor anymore.

They both jumped to their feet and Vera barely managed to avoid a blow aimed at her abdomen. She had no time to grab her weapon again; she wasn't even sure if the sticks were in her reach or whether they rolled away. She blocked a punch, his fist colliding with the little flesh of her forearm painfully, surely bruising her bones. She blocked a kick to her side right afterwards, but stumbled. It was all the man needed to score a precisely aimed blow to her cheek.

Her face throbbed and she spitted out blood unconsciously, shielding her face to prevent further damage. Christ, this _hurt._ He drew out a small knife, the blade shiny in the shadows of the room. The adrenalin pumped in her veins instead of blood. She went from defence to attack, _screw the risks_. Her opponent probably didn't see it coming, because she disarmed him easily, his knife joining her own weapon on the floor. She kicked out, her sole colliding with his abdomen, knocking the air out of him – yet, he managed to caught her feet on instinct before she could have retreat it. He twisted it, making Vera cry out in pain as she subconsciously went down to prevent the damage and avoid the pain. She hit the ground hard.

The man lunged at her with his knife, but before he had a chance to bury the blade in somewhere in her, she could hear and feel a swish of wind as a red arrow dug into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards. Vera wasted no time and used his distraction to cut out his core with a kick and spin, his body falling down near hers. Seeing her billy club nearby in the corner of her eye, she reached for it, her fingers curling around her weapon with satisfaction. The man tried to get back on his feet, but she sent him to the dreamland instead with a blow to his face.

Vera spitted another share of blood mixed with saliva, wasting a precious time to take a breath and wonder if Matt's and Oliver's cooperation looked similar; only with Matt looking more graceful when fighting, being on the ground less and generally being more badass. Also, there were probably more enemies downstairs; she hoped those men were rather similar to Vera's opponent and not Colleen's.

A cry of pain sounded from her right; she quickly focused on the man— with an arrow sticking out of his knee. Vera would make a sympathetic noise, because _Jesus_ , but she didn't really have time to feel sorry. Instead, she paced to him, ending his suffering with her stick hitting his face. She didn't waste a moment to thank Arsenal for all of his assistance, even though he definitely deserved one; if for anything else, than for saving her from getting stabbed.

She huffed tiredly when she saw two more men heading her direction. How the hell was Matt doing this all the time? She was _exhausted_.

She checked up on the others; Claire was hitting someone with her pipe wrench to their face, Arsenal successfully taking down one man who was about to attack the nurse from behind. Detective Knight was nowhere to be seen – Vera found her few seconds later, curled against a pillar, probably unconscious. _Fuck_.

Vera crouched to avoid a hook one of the men threw at her, elbowing his crutch since she was down there. Why the hell hadn't she used this particular dirty move earlier? She delivered an uppercut, suddenly receiving a blow to her lower back. Her feet tangled together as she tried to regain her balance. Shit, she completely forgot about the other guy. She kicked out behind her, hoping she would hit him. She did, but having only one leg to balance herself for a second, being shoved meant hitting the ground again. She was really getting sick of this. She kicked one of her attacker's knee with all rage she got, the crack audible even as he screamed. Served him right.

More gunshots rang in her ears; Vera hoped it was Detective Knight regaining consciousness, but she had no time to check as a body fell next to her, her own victim whimpering and clutching his knee. She elbowed his face, quickly rolling over when peripherally seeing something heading her direction.

A katana landed few inches from her face, her heart stopping. _Jesus fucking Christ._

Before she could fully realize how _close_ she was to getting cut in half, the blade was in the air again. She deflected the next hit with her billy club, scared and wired like never before. She vaguely registered a woman crying out in agony when kicking out to put some distance between her and the man who had fucking almost _cut her in half_. He jumped back to avoid it.

Vera had no time to cheer or get herself back on her feet. An arm curled around her throat in a solid vice, pulling her close. She gasped helplessly, vainly fighting to free herself from the grip.

She couldn't breathe. The katana reflected the dim light in the room, rising again. She felt tears in her eyes as she tried to jerk from the rock-solid headlock, kicking around, her fingers curling around the forearm crushing her windpipe. The world was spinning, the time slowing down.

 _Ježišikriste. This is how I die. Suffocating and impaled on a katana, in the arms of a fucking ninja fanatic._

She squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel the energy floating away from her muscles as she lacked oxygen, her attempts getting weaker and more laborious with each second, darkness enwrapping her, her ears ringing, but she mustn't stop, she couldn't-

The pressure around her neck loosened all of sudden, allowing her to inhale with ferocity. It hurt, it fucking hurt, but she did it again, forcing more air into her lungs, her head spinning as her body rolled onto side away from the man, curling up.

"Hey, hey, breathe, Vera," a disguised voice ordered and Vera swung after the hand appearing on her arm, her throat burning as she took another breath in. "Not an enemy. Breathe, come on. Open your eyes."

Vera obeyed for whatever reason her brain came up with and she finally realized it was the red archer speaking to her. He must have saved her. Fuck, that guy was a miracle worker. She was one step from loving him, seriously.

"Thanks," she rasped, immediately regretting that she tried to talk, the pain in her throat making more tears sprout from her eyes. She blinked them away, accepting the gloved hand that pulled her up effortlessly. The world swayed out of its place; Vera was glad he was close enough for her to use him as a support.

"That guy who came in first," Arsenal noted, sounding angry as they tried to walk, "I have no idea what to do with him. The arrows are barely-"

He let go of Vera's waist in favour of throwing something to his left – a cry followed as a man went down. Vera hadn't even noticed him being there.

"-tickling him. Explosive arrow seems like a bad idea given the C4. But it's like he's fucking immortal— you wouldn't happen to know if he was injected with Mirakuru?"

With what now? There was something that could be injected into someone and make them immortal?!

The idea struck Vera like a lightning. "Head," she rasped, a coughing fit following her attempt to speak again.

When Knight had interrogated her…. they had been talking about an impaled body – Stick's – and one more, possibly the body of the man Matt had been talking about, the one threatening their lives, _decapitated_. Vera felt a wave of nausea at the thought, but…

"Cut it off," she added, her palm on her throat as if it could ease the pain.

Vera could almost touch the archer's shock. But he ignored that her advice sounded like something from an extremely bad zombie movie and wordlessly took another throwing star, sending it flying in the man's direction. He dodged it, but the next one hit him good, blood immediately colouring the side of his neck.

It was enough of a distraction. Colleen's katana finished the job and the man's head was separated from his neck. Vera gaged, quickly looking away, but the image didn't disappear, the hair standing on the back of her neck in horror. She was sure she was gonna throw up and pass out at the same time. Possibly screaming in between.

For the first time, she registered a woman groaning and panting. She snapped her head in that direction, finding Claire kneeling at Detective Knight's side, pressing firmly against— Vera actually felt the darkness embrace her for a second.

The detective was… she was missing an arm. Someone had cut off her arm. Vera was sure she was never getting the picture out of her head either and if the woman would die-

"Oh shit," sounded next to her and Vera would agree, but she couldn't speak, watching the horror image in front of her.

"Yeah, I know, she's losing too much blood-" Claire said, voice on verge of desperation.

"That's not what she's talking about," the archer noted, disguised voice somewhat strangled.

Vera shot Colleen a look. The tiny woman had blood all over her white sweatshirt, crouching above a detonator. A detonator that had started a ten-minute countdown. She reciprocated Vera's look, helpless and pissed.

"We need to get out of here," Colleen hissed at them, immediately at Knight's side, helping her up together with Claire.

"We need to get _everyone_ out of here," Vera corrected her instantly, her chest tightening again.

Her worst nightmare was slowly coming true. What if she had made it worse? What if she killed them all when involving Oliver and his friend? Was that what she was getting for trying to change what Terri had seen? Trying to change the future?

Arsenal touched his chest, speaking hurryingly. "Arrow. Arrow, can you hear me?"

He moved to the detective, supporting her weight instead of the tiny Asian woman, repeating his actions. Vera finally figured he must have had some sort of a communicator hidden there, activated when pressed like this.

"Arrow! Come on-"

"They are stories deep under ground, there's no way your communicator works," Colleen noted, leading them, kicking a man's face and ending his attempts to get up.

Vera suddenly felt worse than when being in the headlock, her windpipe crushed with much more force. "We need to let them know _somehow_."

"They're not stupid, they wouldn't stay longer than necessary, they don't _need to_ hear us. For all we know, they might be on their way out now," Claire panted with effort, readjusting her grip on Detective Knight, simultaneously trying to keep her from bleeding out. "Hey, hey, Misty, stay with me."

The halls seemed to have no end. Their tempo was agonizingly slow. Vera's brain was wired, running on liquid fear. _Please be on your way out, please, please, tell me you're on your way out-_

Danny appeared behind a corner and Vera sniffled, looking up to the ceiling, thanking god.

"Colleen!" Danny addressed her, sounding somewhere between happy and horrified as he scanned them all. Luke and Jessica appeared behind his shoulder.

"Danny!"

Vera waited two seconds before she froze, tsunami of terror hitting her again.

"Where are the others?" she whispered, her knees getting weak. "What happened?" Danny asked at the same time.

"She's bleeding out-" Claire informed him, interrupted by Vera's voice demanding an answer much louder than before.

" _Where are the others?!"_ she cried out, making Danny wince.

"Bakuto set off the detonator. This building's about to explode," Colleen explained and Vera instantly saw understanding on the three vigilantes' faces.

"We have to go back!" Danny yelled, horrified.

 _Thank you!_

"Why?" Claire protested, her tone saying _why on Earth would you want to come back_? Vera would think the answer was obvious, but she didn't spare her a single glance.

"We can't leave them down there," Jessica agreed quickly, already spinning on her heels, Vera right behind her, grateful someone had some sense left in them.

And then an army of heavily armed cops stormed inside, aiming at their peculiar group. "Hold it right there!"

Vera couldn't hear the man. She saw fire behind her eyelids, an empty casket lowering to the ground, because there would be no body to bury. ' _Hold it.'_ No fucking way in hell.

"I SAID HOLD IT!" the cop yelled, "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"

"Hey!" Vera heard Arsenal's outraged voice behind her. Vera didn't turn to check, but she was pretty sure someone was pointing a riffle at her specifically and her red protector didn't like it.

"There are bombs in this building. We gotta go!" Colleen snapped.

Vera felt Jessica's fingers curl around her wrist, preventing further movement, probably trying to stop Vera from taking any more steps and getting shot as a result. And hell if that woman wasn't strong; Vera felt like her wrist was in a vice and she suspected Jessica was taking it easy on her.

"Hands in the air. Now!" the leader commanded, his only response being silence. Vera eyed him, impatient. With each fucking second standing here and playing cops and bandits, they were losing precious time. For some reason, Matt was still down there-

"I'm sorry," Luke approached the leader confidently, not afraid of the bullets he could receive for it. "I can't let this happen."

Vera had no idea what he that meant, but she didn't give a shit. They needed to _MOVE._

"How long?" the leader asked, not lowering his gun.

"Less than two minutes to the detonation," Claire announced, voice thick. Jessica's grip on Vera's wrist grew more solid as Vera turned back to the hallway, ready to run. She would swear she could hear the PI whisper soundless _sorry_.

"Let's go," the leader ordered, his team lowering their weapons and making their way out hurriedly.

Vera tried to jerk from the vice around her wrist with no effect except causing the tendons in her arm cry. She shot Jessica a desperate pleading look.

"I can't let you go down there," the PI said, her voice apologizing and full of regrets. She couldn't be serious, could she?

Vera's heart skipped several beats when meeting the sad compassionate eyes. She was burning and freezing at the same time, weak and strong, _knowing_ Jessica was right but at the same time refusing to accept the possibility she was. Two minutes were not enough, not even close, that much was obvious, but— but Vera didn't give a fuck. It was worth a try.

"No!" she protested immediately, her body involuntarily following the woman who tugged on her hand.

Vera clenched her muscles as much as she managed, only to hiss in pain as her arm remembered having its joint almost dislocated only hours ago. The PI wrapped an arm around Vera's waist, dragging her towards the others who were making their way out. Vera propped up her feet against the floor.

 _Two fucking minutes!_ "No!"

"For god's sake-!"

Without a warning, Vera found herself in the air, thrown over the PI's shoulder, gasping, carried away against her will. Their group broke into running as they left the building, Vera hitting Jessica's back furiously as if the woman could possibly mind her weak tiny fists.

 _Fucking PIs, fucking drunks, fucking vigilantes, fucking super-strength-_

"LET GO!" Vera yelled, terrible tingling in her fingertips, a wave of something indefinable running through her as the distance between her and the building grew and grew.

 _No, no, no, let me go, there's still a little time-_

Her feet suddenly hit the surface again as Jessica settled her on the ground with a huff. Vera gasped, relieved that the woman finally listened to her.

And then the explosion shook the ground under their feet.


	15. Purgatory

**15\. Purgatory**

She couldn't move a single muscle. She stared at the wave of explosion running up the building, glass shattering, floor by floor, fire exploding through, sending shards into air, panels of concrete collapsing. The fancy skyscraper turned into a fiery monster, swallowing everything.

Everything.

And _everyone._

 _You left him there,_ whispered a wicked voice in her ear, making her world swim. _You left him there to die._

Vera finally snapped from her shock, lunging forward.

A vice squeezed her body immediately, grip as strong as steel. Tears spurted from her eyes as she jerked from it – or she tried. The arms around her only held her closer to the body of whoever had caught her. A dozen of ways of breaking out flickered through her mind, too frantically for her to pick one.

She instinctively kicked the person in their shin with brutal strength she didn't knew she could possess, the vice loosening slightly, enough for her to free one of her arms and elbow the person right in their stupid face. She glimpsed a dark red sleeve even with her eyes still fixed on the metal monster spewing fire and glass.

"Goddammit," a rough voice cursed, trying to get a secure hold on her again, but vainly. She used her other elbow to attack his gut and his arms finally disappeared.

 _Go. Get there. Right now_ , the voice ordered right into her ear and she listened. There was nothing else. Only the fire and the person in it. Nothing else existed.

Vera threw herself forward, running towards the building; she managed two steps before a truly unbreakable grasp sent her flying back, colliding with another body. She could feel the energy from the glowing fist even without seeing its light.

She screamed, kicking her captor furiously.

" _LET ME GO!"_ she cried out, trashing her arms and legs around, feeling the rush of adrenaline in her veins, a desperate desire to break free and run.

 _Run_.

 _Fight._

 _Save him._

"Vera. Vera, stop," a quiet male voice pleaded, soft and cracked. She knew that voice, but she didn't give a crap right now. She didn't give a fuck if she hurt him when breaking free.

" _HE'S STILL IN THERE!"_ she yelled in response, vainly trying to gain some oxygen between her raging attempts to fight of the Iron Fist's chi.

"I know. I'm so sorry, Vera. There's nothing you can do now. None of us can," his voice replied lowly. The crack in it changed into a break; the glass barely held in the frame now, just a light poke with her finger and it would shatter into million pieces. Just like the building.

' _There's nothing you can do now.'_

To prove him right, the giant of Midland Circle gave in, collapsing into the ground, leaving only cloud of ash behind.

"NO!" someone screamed in an ear-tearing cry, the sound returning in an echo to its source. Vera realized it was her, it was her own voice and it only made her fight harder, because why they were all just standing here?! Why was she the only one who was making any effort?!

' _There's nothing you can do now. None of us can.'_

 _You failed,_ the voice which had been ordering her around before supplied helpfully, turning her boiling blood into ice. _You knew this was about to happen. You could have saved him, but you failed._

" _I failed,"_ she breathed, the icy blood still somehow roaring in her ears, muffling the world around. The arms around her body squeezed tighter.

"What-"

"I failed," she repeated more firmly, her voice suddenly not her own. Strange. Cold. _I killed him._

"Vera-"

She couldn't move her hands. She had no idea how the connection between her brain and the muscles in her arms worked, her legs were suddenly not her own either, too heavy, tingling. She was floating. The blood felt icy in her veins, but it burned, tiny needles, millions of them pinching. She was falling freely from immeasurable heights, her ears ringing with the brutal pressure drop, her head spinning— Christ, why was the ringing so loud? And voices, voices all around her, right and left, up and down, yelling right in her ears- no, right in her _head_ , how should she get them out, too loud, so fucking loud it hurt-

 _YOU FAILED_.

 _I failed,_ she confirmed with a sob.

 _YOU KILLED HIM. HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU._

 _I killed him. He's dead because of me— please stop screaming, I can't-_

"Christ, Danny, let go of her or she's gonna hurt herself trashing around like this."

 _YOU SET THE BOMBS. YOU BURIED HIM ALIVE._

 _I can't— I can't-_

 _YOU BURIED HIM ALIVE UNDER TONS OF RUBBLE._

"Vera! Stop it!"

 _I set the—buried- please, please, not so loud, it's my fault, I know, I know, please-_

"Shit, she's totally out-"

"Oliver! Yeah, loud and— are you-"

 _YOU DID NOTHING TO STOP IT._

 _I tried-_

 _NOTHING._

"Who are you talking to?"

"I can hear them. What the— if I didn't think you just died, I would kill you myself."

 _Quiet, please-_

 _YOU KILLED HIM. HE'S DEAD. IT'S YOUR FAULT._

 _I killed him. He's dead. It's my fault._

"What."

"Him. I can hear Oliver through my comms and he says they are okay. Alive and okay."

 _ALIVE MY ASS, LIES, LIES, YOU LET HIM DIE._

 _I let him die._

"Are you for real?"

"Yes. Oli— I mean, Arrow talks to me. They made it out in the last moment. They're fine."

 _FINE, YES. A FINE BED, MATTRESS OF STEEL, COVERS OF GLASS AND CONCRETE-_

"Vera, hey! Calm down. They are fine."

"She can't hear you, she's out of her mind-"

"Yeah, we're all okay. Mostly. Yes, even Vera is okay, I keep my promi-"

" _Vera,_ come on, listen to me."

 _Who's Vera?_

 _A MURDERER. YOU._

"I mean, yeah, she's kinda out of it, not entirely with us, but conscious, breathing, not bleeding profusely or something— well they're trying to- she's not listening to anything we're saying, okay?!"

"Vera, it's Claire. Matt is alive. He made it out. Breathe with me, slowly. Vera!"

 _VERA. THAT'S YOU. IT'S YOUR FAULT, VERA. MATT? ALIVE? YOU WISH. HE COLD HAVE BEEN, YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HIM, BUT YOU-_

 _Don't, please, please, please…_

 _YOU AND ONLY YOU-_

"Turn off my— and tell her what?! I- fine…. Vera, Matt will wait for you at home. Okay? Matt will wait until the lights will guide you home to him."

The screaming voice in her head fell silent and the world stood still. A man was speaking – she didn't know him, she hadn't heard that voice before. He was saying something important though. What was he saying? He wasn't speaking as loud as the others, it wasn't as intrusive as the voice yelling at her before but- but what he was saying was interesting.

"Huh, she stopped covering her ears at least. Ok— okay. Vera, look at me. Slow breaths. Matt is alive. _Lights will guide you home_ to him."

It meant something. Vera _knew_ it meant something, something _important_ , she just couldn't put her finger on it, so loud, everything was still so loud, the world blurry as she opened her eyes, but this voice, the words were caressing her ears… what did that mean-

"Ligh-lights w-will guid-de you ho-ho-home…"

She heard herself talking, the words familiar on her tongue for whichever reason— why was she thinking about words when the other voice… it had been yelling at her about _death-_

"Yeah, yeah. Exactly—… for real? And- _and ignite your bones."_

"A-and ig-igni-ite your bo-bones," she repeated the words automatically.

Why, _why_ was she— no, not words, _lyrics_ , these were lyrics of a song. A _song_ , why was she thinking about- _their_ song, Matt's and Vera's, they had danced on a benefit, they had been in a gym, beautiful whiskey brown eyes, soft smile, _'maybe they just need lights to guide them home'_ \- Matt- no one knew about that. Not even the mean voice reminding her of what she had done, how she had failed, not even _that_ voice knew-

The other voices she had heard before couldn't know that either. This was Matt, only her and Matt knew, Matt had learnt to play the song on a piano, because he knew she loved that song-

"Hey, hey, Vera. Stay with me. Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones. _And I will-"_

"A-and I will t-t-try t-to fix you," she finished before the man in a red hood swimming in the sea of her tears could. He looked like he smiled, touching a spot on his chest.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we're definitely better here. I'm on my way."

The red archer jogged away, his actions followed by a loud "Hey' from someone, but he only shoot an arrow to nowhere, carbon rope extending and he used it as leverage, running, jumping off and disappearing into the night.

"Fuck," the same voice who had shouted at him earlier cursed.

Vera was slowly realizing whose voices she could hear now, someone's hand rubbing comforting circles on her back and cold, _Christ_ , it was so cold.

"Vera, you're with me? How do you feel?" Claire asked her gently, the circling movement stopping.

Vera felt like she had never gotten more ridiculous question to answer. How did she feel? Legless and headless, with the cold firm ground materializing under her knees, her arms wrapped around her torso to stop the shivering – god, so, _so cold,_ she had been too warm just a second ago, how the hell that happened-

"Cold," she rasped, earning a squeeze on her shoulder.

"Yeah, let's get you somewhere warm," Claire offered, herself only in a sweatshirt, probably cold as well.

"Matt-"

"Matt is okay, madwoman, come on, get up, take it easy-" Strong arms appeared on hers and suddenly she was standing, resting her weight against a huge body created of stone. "Thanks, Luke."

"Thanks, Luke," Vera repeated dutifully, curling up to him a little, chasing after the warm he was radiating. Were those… bullet-holes in his hoodie?

She was seated in an ambulance, she thought. The road to the hospital was a blur.

Not a hospital; the only treatment she needed she got in the ambulance. So they dropped her off with the others at a police station. The Harlem precinct, Vera thought. The world was hazy, sometimes swaying, noises blending together.

Someone hugged her and smacked her back with almost brutal force, cursing, orange hair tickling Vera's cheeks; she melted into the embrace, familiar but strange. ' _Yes, he's okay, he's at home waiting for me, he said_ ' was her quiet response to Terri's question and her best friend squeezed her tighter before Vera was stolen from her arms by Foggy, the question repeated, the answer still the same and followed by his ' _There is a God after all'._

Vera had no idea what she was telling the police officer who was asking about what had happened in the building and how she had gotten there in the first place, she had no fucking clue and she didn't give a shit, Matt was waiting at home, he was still alive-

"Go get him, tiger," Terri encouraged her as the taxi stopped in front of their apartment building and Vera finally saw sharply, the world slowing down enough for her to see more than a blur, to hear more than just a white noise.

"Thank you, Terri. _Thank you._ You saved his life, I don't-"

"Nah, screw it, we can talk about it later, I need to chew for doing exactly the kind of reckless shit I asked you not to do anyway. You need a very specific manly hug now, so just go, Mechy, jeez."

Vera found a way to control her mimics, managing something that might even resemble a smile. Terri was a brilliant, brilliant friend, who could see the future, the tragic future and had prevented not only Vera's death, but now also Matt's.

Vera ran up the stairs, the backpack over her shoulder and the coat over her forearm weighting a ton, but her body too light. She didn't find the right key at the door of their apartment before it flew open, muscular arms tugging her in, squeezing her in a bones-crushing embrace, hot skin of Matt's torso, soft crook of his neck and arm and side smeared with dried blood – but she couldn't care less, nuzzling her nose in, inhaling; sweat, copper and iron… and santal wood, Matt, _home_.

His throat was working, vibrating with a familiar melody, hitching now and then when he inhaled sharply.

"Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you," she mumbled, choking on the words as they came out with a sob, Matt's embrace tightening despite her thinking it wasn't possible.

"Thank God. I love you. You're okay, you're okay, _you're okay…"_ he whispered to her hair and she shrieked, unable to respond otherwise.

Matt was alive. He was okay. He was _right here_. Hugging her. His heartbeat pounded in her ears, his carotid pulsing into the skin on her cheek, breathing, skin warm…

Vera had no idea how long they were standing there, door still open, half naked and bloody Matt in sweats, with her crying in his arms. It must have been minutes. Or hours?

"Come on, Vera, let's go inside," he pleaded with his lips on the top of her head, soft voice, _Matt's voice_ , comforting no matter what he would say now, simply because she could hear his voice, which meant he was _alive_.

Vera retreated just slightly, watching his face – amiable eyes and full red lips curled in an inconspicuous smile, hair sticking in every possible direction. She quickly pressed a kiss to his mouth, just a passing touch that made her feel like she was flying. A breath of life on her lips.

She followed him to their living room, still clinging to his arm, welcomed by two other men – both in Kevlar, green one and red one, hoods down.

Oliver and… _Arsenal_?

"Hey, Vera," Oliver greeted her and Vera was crushed by the wave of gratitude at his gentle tone.

He had made this happen. Oliver had come to help them and he had saved Matt's life. She reluctantly let go of her fiancée's arm; the moment she did, their magical reunion was broken and she was free to pace to Oliver and threw herself at him.

He let a huff of air, sounding a little in pain, but he hugged her back, tender arm around her. She buried her forehead in his chest.

"Thank you," she murmured, wanting to yell it instead. She didn't realize she was crying. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you."_

He caressed her back and she could hear a smile in his voice when he replied. "You're welcome."

Vera shook her head wildly and Oliver squeezed her tighter before releasing her. He beckoned to the other man and Vera finally looked at him properly.

Arsenal was sure a man rather than a boy, but he was very young – Vera guessed he could be her age. He was also ridiculously handsome – just an objective observation. He was smiling unsurely, raising his hand in an awkward wave, just like he had when meeting the whole gang at Midland Circle.

"Hi. I'm Roy. Harper," he introduced himself and Vera recognized that voice as the one which had talked to her, trying to snap her from the terrible cacophony after the explosion, after she had thought— _after_. She definitely preferred this voice to the one changed mechanically; it was the right amount of roughness and velvet. And cheeriness, momentarily.

Vera only thought for a second before pacing to him and hugging him as well. He made a surprised noise, but hesitantly reciprocated the affection.

"Thank you, Roy Harper," she said over his shoulder. "For saving my life back there and for coming here in the first place."

"Sure thing."

Vera smiled, retreating. He actually did look like he meant it – it reminded her of what he had promised to Matt, that he would protect her with his life.

These heroic types had strange loyalties.

"So. I guess we'll be heading out. We already stitched up what was necessary and I believe you have things to do."

Vera glanced at Oliver, who already had a bow in his hand, Roy appearing by his side. Matt's hand found hers – she hadn't notice he had approached her.

"Thank you for your help. I owe you," Matt exclaimed, his voice full of gratitude and honesty. Vera nudged his side lightly and he understood. _"We_ owe you. If you ever need anything…"

Roy and Oliver nodded in perfect synch. "We'll keep that in mind. Take care— seriously, _take care."_

Vera squeezed Matt's hand. Yeah, good plan. She didn't try to stop them; they seemed in hurry and Vera would appreciate a minute or two alone with Matt.

"Thank you. _Thank you._ Have a safe flight."

Oliver smiled at her, pulling his hood on, Roy following his example. They jogged up the stairs, disappearing through the rooftop access. The moment the door clicked behind them, Vera found herself back in Matt's arms. She didn't complain, melting into his body, wishing they would just merge and their breathing and heartbeats become one.

They showered together, the hot water washing blood and all fears away. They kissed several times, but nothing heated, simple wordless _I care for you_ – they were careful, tender, lingering touches of their lips and hands, no rush, no burning passion.

Matt's fingers brushed her sore cheek, her left arm from her shoulder to its fingertips, her lower back, precisely following the path of her pain. She couldn't return the favour, her eyes couldn't see beyond the angry gashes – on his right arm, the cut above his right collarbone, across his left side and on his left thigh; so she ghosted her fingertips over the visible injuries and carefully caressed everything else, her hand shaking when passing over his chest above his heart. It could have been silent now. She wavered there, resting her whole palm against it, feeling the beat, her eyes closed. It took Matt a while to cover the back of her hand with his, pulling her into gentle embrace, his lips on her forehead before resting his chin on the top of her head. Vera wondered if he was listening to her heart as well and if he could tell that the droplets from the shower running down her cheeks were competing with her tears in a ridiculous race.

They stood like this for eternity, but that was okay. They had all time in the world now. The Hand was gone and there was no sword of Damocles hanging above their heads. Just the two of them. Together, safe and warm. Home. They stayed under the stream until the water turned cold and the bathroom was so filled with steam Matt probably saw better than Vera did.

Snuggled on the couch with a cup tea on the table, Vera was feeling the heavy blanket of tiredness falling back on her. Matt's heartbeat was like a lullaby, loving and reassuring thump-thump in her ear, his fingers tracing her bare arm in slow periodic motion. They didn't talk – neither of them wanted to. There was nothing to say now, nothing that couldn't wait.

Except the one question burning Vera on her tongue, the one question that didn't allow her to fall asleep despite the weariness settled deep inside her bones.

"What happened in there, Matt? Why didn't you come with the others?" she whispered, immediately regretting not keeping her mouth shut as the perfectly regular heartbeat skipped a beat, Matt's whole body tensing.

Yet, she didn't take it back. She wanted to know. She _needed_ to know and then they could finally fall asleep in each other's arms.

"I… I wanted to try," Matt breathed, tentative. Vera blinked, the light of the billboard burning her eyes. She stiffened as well.

"Try what?"

His gulp was too loud in her ears. She retreated, watching him. He looked… guilty. And exhausted to death.

 _Ouch, don't use that word, Veronika._

Matt opened his mouth only to close it. She felt her heart speeding up in anticipation. _Try what?_

"To get through to her. She was brainwashed, remade into… into some kind of a weapon, but she hesitated several times when she was supposed to kill me."

Vera winced as the ugly K word left his lips. His eyes were sad, ashamed, lost. Matt had thought he could break the curse over his not-so-dead ex-girlfriend. The one who apparently had tried to kill him several times; Vera didn't give a fuck if she had hesitated or not, the goal was clear, but Matt… _oh, Matt…_

She knew Matt was ridiculously forgiving, had a lot of faith in humanity, she loved that about him, but after everything that happened, everything that _could_ _have_ happened… it made her rather angry. Seriously… there were boundaries. There was only a certain amount of belief one could have in people, especially in certain life-death situations.

"So what? You sent the others up while you were about to… talk her down?" she asked, standing up, her feet itching to pace. The words tasted strangely on her tongue. Poisonous.

She shouldn't be asking that. Something suffocating was forming in her chest, preventing her from asking further, but she fought it off. Whatever it was, it wasn't just a simple jealously. No, it was anxiety too. Jealousy, anxiety, fear and something else, something ugly she had never felt before, but it was making her nauseous. It was screaming at her to not want the question answered, warning her something would break.

She still didn't take it back.

"Well… yes. I heard the detonator being set off, the countdown starting and I knew there was not much time, so they went ahead-"

Vera's heart stopped; the world which finally felt like steadying swayed off its place yet again. Matt was saying something else, but she couldn't hear him anymore, his words echoing in her head. She was trying to convince herself she had just made it up that he hadn't actually said that— that- fuck, _this_ was the ugly something, _this_ was what she didn't want to find out, yet she had asked it and maybe… maybe she had subconsciously already known.

He had sent them ahead. He had sent them ahead, staying behind, knowing— what?

"You knew?" she rasped, reaching for the couch to hold onto something, because she felt like the earthquake had returned, striking with unbearable intensity, messing up her balance. Her ears were ringing again.

She peripherally saw Matt jump to his feet, his hand reaching out to stable her, but she was just fine with the couch, retreating from the man who was actually _supposed to_ be dead. Possibly by his own choice. Lying at the bottom of the pit, buried under the rubble. No breath, no heartbeat, cold lifeless hands. Just like his former lover.

Vera didn't want the cold hands on her. She didn't want him to touch her now. No.

"…so when you sent the others ahead, you _knew_ that the countdown had started? You _knew_ the building was about to collapse?"

He had wanted to stay down there. He had _chosen_ it. Vera had been on the verge of desperation, a second from tearing her hair out while trying to figure out a way to _save_ him and he— he had- he had decided to stay down with the- the thing or whatever that… _Elektra_ had been, knowing that- he had known he would have _died?_

When she looked up, darkness dancing on the edge of her vision, she found out the answer too easily; Matt's expression told her.

Yes. _Yes,_ he had known.

There were no words to describe what the realization did to her; she just couldn't do it. She lost the ability to form words not only in with her mouth, but in her mind as well. Her mind was perfectly blank.

After everything they had been through, Vera didn't quite believe there was _anything_ that would make her feel like this, make want to do this. And here they were. She was standing so close to him, but the distance between had never felt so immense, they had never been so far from each other and what more, Vera had never been so _grateful_ for the inches being between them. She had never felt like this; afraid of his touch, panicked, _disgusted_ at the idea-

That situation, the state her mind was in, the suffocating nauseating feeling, it only had one solution. One solution clear as day and scary as the darkest night.

She did what she used to be doing the best. She ran.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Epilogue ahead. New-ish POV. Read the notes after it, please, even if they are about to be as long as the chapter :)


	16. Epilogue

_Oliver's POV._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 **Epilogue: In the dark at the end of my road**

… _I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't  
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road.  
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope  
It's a shot in a dark and right at my throat…_

 _Shake It Out – Florence and the Machine_

When Felicity called him that she had received a very alarming phone call and that she was heading to the… 'Arrow cave', Oliver was baffled at best, but immediately was on his way. When she explained that it had been Vera who had called with too little info but too much desperation and that Felicity had already found enough of nasty info about what was happening in New York City to convince her Vera and friends needed the Arrow's help – not to mention an unexplainable earthquake, that sounded too familiar –, Oliver had to admit his girlfriend was right.

When she dropped the bombshell that she had already hacked into a database of a private aircraft company to slip in a little note about a scheduled and already paid Starling-NYC top class flight, he decided the world was crazy and he was not getting over Felicity skills any time soon. Or over about just how well she knew him to realize he would want to be on his way. Of course, she had called Roy in as well – by the time Oliver's emergency Arrow bag was ready, Roy had appeared, taken aback but willing to join.

Sure, Oliver and Roy studied the file Felicity had prepared for them – _how the hell, when,_ not that it only included the newest reports from the NYPD police, but also some older, which was how Oliver learnt that Vera's boyfriend had apparently been back for a while and decided to wear horns – yet, they were not ready for what awaited them at the private airport. Felicity managed to rent them a private helicopter with a pilot who didn't question two weird hooded men ready to jump down; no, Oliver was _not_ getting over Felicity's skillset, _ever_.

They might not have the Queens Consolidated and its resources anymore, but they still had Felicity Smoak.

Of course, meeting the gang of wayward vigilantes of New York by Vera's side, including her very own boyfriend – _fiancée_ actually if the ring on her left hand was any indication – was even weirder. And the situation was only getting stranger and stranger from there.

Exhausted, banged up, but quite happy for things ending surprisingly well, they left Matt's (who had told them his name, since they had been enormous help and Oliver had more or less saved his life) and Vera's apartment, changing in an abandoned building and heading back to the private airport. That day was full of insane surprises and Oliver hoped he ran out of a month supply of those.

He was wrong. Felicity called again, announcing Vera was heading their way and was probably about to ask Oliver about the possibility of hitching a ride/ flight with them.

So much for no more surprises.

…

Oliver and Roy watched the cab pull over, its door opening before the car fully stopped. A black-haired girl in glasses got out, a backpack hanging over her shoulder sloppily. She eyed them, hesitantly making her way to them. If Oliver could be forgiven, he would say she looked terrible.

"Vera, hey. You okay? What happened?" he hurried, meeting her halfway.

Her face twisted in a desperate grimace, her hand running through her damp hair. It wasn't raining or snowing – damn from shower? Had she left in such a hurry?

"I'm just— I'm sorry. Is there- you're leaving, right? Any chance there is a vacant seat?" she asked, her voice cracking. From screaming? Crying? Her eyes were red-rimmed, so crying it was, though he wouldn't rule out the screaming just yet.

"Of course, if that's what— Felicity called. What happened?"

"I need to leave. Go away from— from- everything," she stuttered, her left hand falling from her hair. It took Oliver half a second to notice the change; there was no ring. Vera wasn't wearing her engagement ring. That couldn't be good.

Oliver could only assume that the talk that must have followed after their leave had gone in the worst way possible, bringing her on edge. When people were on edge, they made stupid decisions; he could talk from experience.

"Vera… are you sure this is-"

"Please, Oliver? Please, just— just _please,"_ she pleaded, glassy imploring eyes, damp cheeks, a look of utter desperation.

It broke his heart to see her like this. In the past few days, she had been through more than some people in their lifetime. She deserved a vacation, no doubt, but taking her away like this? From Matt? After what had been probably a huge fight? That didn't sound like a good solution.

"Please, Ol-Oliver, _please."_

He set his jaw tight, cursing mentally. This was going to end badly for all people involved.

"I'll end up with a billy club shoved down my throat…" he sighed. Instantly, gratitude and relief faintly lighted up her face.

"Thank you," she breathed, settling the backpack on her shoulder, following Roy to the plane. The cab honked, making a turn and leaving.

Oliver asked the pilot not to rush, providing Vera enough time to calm down at least a little, making her silently question her actions, hoping she would change her mind. It was a vain effort – she hesitated when walking between the seats, yes, but only because she didn't know which one she could take. Oliver shrugged, not caring. He sighed as she simply chose the one she was currently standing at.

Vera inconspicuously slipped off her shoes, curling up in a ball, leaning her head onto the seat, mostly facing the window.

"We're all settled, Mr. Queen," the captain announced and Oliver didn't spare a glance at him, still watching the bundle of sadness. She looked like a stray kitten, wandering, lost, searching for home. Oliver knew for sure this was not a way to find it, but he nodded and the captain left. For all he knew, if they had rejected her, she might get herself into further trouble when looking for help elsewhere.

Vera didn't move when they were taking off. There was no screaming, no freak-out, no pleas to come back. Honestly, he suspected she was already asleep; she must have been exhausted.

Oliver observed her with his fist against his mouth, already regretting taking her with them.

"You sure it was a good idea?" Roy questioned carefully, not wanting to sound as if he doubted Oliver's judgement. Too late – Oliver beat him to the doubting.

"I'm sure it _wasn't,"_ he said honestly, eyeing the surprised man. "But I didn't have any better at the moment."

Roy just nodded in understanding, his gaze moving to Vera. "Did she really do that? Asked you to… take off your pants?"

Oliver chuckled tiredly. "Yeah. She did. She did a lot of things back then. That's why I needed to come here – well, apart from the search for any other earthquake-inducing device, which I closed off as a waste. Thanks for coming with me."

"Sure. Always."

"You did good back there, Roy. I knew I could trust you to keep her safe."

"Well, I admit that wasn't easy," Roy admitted, his eyes widening at some memory Oliver hadn't learnt about yet. "She meant it when she said she was a trouble magnet, didn't she?"

"Roy, from all fire escapes in New York, I crushed at hers," Oliver stated, slightly amused.

"Fair enough. But… considering everything, it turned out to be a good thing, didn't it?"

He sighed. "I just hope something good can come out of this too," he whispered, noticing Vera stirred in her foetal position.

He grabbed a blanket from the seat opposite hers, tugging her in, supposedly without waking her up. She just let out a distressed noise, curling up into a tighter ball, her restless sleep unaffected otherwise.

"I just haven't figured out what that could be yet."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 _Just for you to know, the epilogue is meant to be sort of a prequel as well. I figured that if Vera's coming to Starling City, the story should be separated – because of the tags and because you might not want to read Arrow bits._

 _The sequel will be named 'Ready to Suffer, Ready to Hope', because I wanted to stick with the Shake It Out lyrics and it seemed fitting. It's not all angst, I promise, though if you're looking for one, there will be enough of it in a chapter 'Ain't how you hit the mat' from Matt's POV, so you can just check out that one when I post it, there won't be Arrow in it. Also, the fic definitely will have a flashback of Matt-Elektra interaction when they were under._

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _I'm accepting the letters of complaint. If you liked it or disliked it, let me know, I'll appreciate both. If you have any thought to this whole thing you want to share, share :)_


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